


Severed Souls

by ParisianPatate



Series: Kindred Spirits [1]
Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Female Apprentice (The Arcana), Fluff and Angst, Gender-Neutral Apprentice (The Arcana), Male Apprentice (The Arcana), Missing Memories (The Arcana), Multi, Named Apprentice (The Arcana), POV First Person, Past Apprentice/Asra (The Arcana), Pre-Canon, Pre-prologue (The Arcana), Red Plague (The Arcana), Vesuvia (The Arcana)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-08
Updated: 2020-05-31
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:08:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 34,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23548924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ParisianPatate/pseuds/ParisianPatate
Summary: Set a year before your revival : Asra and you have never been closer, though he still holds many of his secrets to himself. After you fight and he leaves again, you find new purpose with the affable yet sultry Doctor Devorak.Written in first POV, and pronouns for MC avoided at all costs, so all can self-insert ;) MC name used: Kealla Withernshot
Relationships: Apprentice & Faust (The Arcana), Apprentice & Inanna (The Arcana), Apprentice & Muriel (The Arcana), Apprentice & Nadia (The Arcana), Apprentice/Asra (The Arcana), Apprentice/Julian Devorak
Series: Kindred Spirits [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1728517
Comments: 4
Kudos: 29





	1. The Last Masquerade : part 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hiya!
> 
> Firstly, thanks for reading! I hope you like it. 
> 
> Even though it is chronologically at the end, I wrote the last book of this series first (Into the Arms of Death... and Life). Since I had too much fun writing that one, I couldn't resist going back in time and filling in the blanks of MC's backstory leading up to that point, obviously integrating as many canonical elements as possible (because CONSISTENCY baby). 
> 
> I will be posting every Wednesday and Saturday until it's all wrapped up.  
>   
>   
>  **Chapter summaries in case you prefer to jump around:**  
>  **1\. The Last Masquerade pt1 :** MC and Asra leave for the Masquerade. You are examined by a charming doctor before entering.
> 
>  **2\. TLM pt2 :** Lucio recognizes and speaks to Asra. Asra and you dance in the ballroom.
> 
>  **3\. TLM pt3 :** Countess Nadia remembers you. MC + Asra feast.
> 
>  **4\. Home Again :** A sweet night between Asra + MC.
> 
>  **5\. Good Day, Bad Omen :** The day after the Masquerade, you visit your aunt and receive an ominous prediction.
> 
>  **6\. Secrets and Symbols :** Asra comes back from the palace completely closed-off. You consult the cards together.
> 
>  **7\. The Revelation :** On a pleasant trip to the marketplace, you have a rude awakening.
> 
>  **8\. Fallout :** The fight.
> 
>  **9\. Grief :** While grieving, a certain plague doctor appears on your doorstep.
> 
>  **10\. Endings :** MC searches for the Mountainman to find closure.
> 
>  **11\. Beginnings :** The first day at the clinic.
> 
>  **12\. Theory :** Julian pushes MC to step out of theory and into practice. A celebratory night out is in order.
> 
>  **13\. Rowdy :** You show off for Julian in the Rowdy Raven. Aka, The Chapter That I Officially Made My Mom A Julian Stan With (Whoops).
> 
>  **14\. Practice :** You test your hand out in the field.
> 
>  **15\. Distance :** Things come to an end.

**The Last Masquerade**

“Are you ready?” Asra asks me as I make my way down the stairs. 

Once I’m at the bottom, I rove my eyes over him. His costume sits on him delicately, accentuating his beautiful form. He looks handsome as always. I see him look me over as well, but with much more intention. He scrutinizes every piece of my attire. I feel myself blush under his stare.

“What do _you_ think?” I tease, trying to cover up how flustered I feel.

He smirks, seeing right through me. “I would say... almost. There is something missing.” He goes behind the shop counter and searches in a drawer. He pulls out two gorgeous masks and walks over to me, placing mine over my head. “Now, that’s better.”

He takes my hand and backs away from me, looking me up and down again. “Just as stunning as I had imagined.”

I blush again. I don’t know why I am like this tonight. We’ve been together for so long now… I don’t usually get embarrassed around him anymore. It must be the whole energy of the night. It’s stirring a lot of excitement up for everyone. It _is_ the Masquerade, after all. 

We step out of the shop and Asra puts the protective enchantments on the door. Once he’s finished, he takes my hand again and leads us down the street. 

I’m ecstatic. The Masquerade is something special for us. It was on this day five years ago that we had met, and it was at the party itself that we were eternally linked (for good or for bad, and much to his frustration at the time). It was a defining night, to say the least. We have made a tradition of going every year as a result. Also, who would want to be the only people in the city to miss out on all the fun?

He was very resistant to go this year, though. I had to beg him to take me for weeks. He insisted that it would be too dangerous, considering how the Red Plague has taken a turn for the worse in the city. I pouted day in and day out and still, he refused. Finally, an announcement was made all across Vesuvia : there would be medical examinations at the palace gates to ensure that none of the infected got in. While I doubt anyone dying of the disease would have the urge to party, they must have feared that many would not show if they did not put such drastic measures in place. Even though we’re not sure how it’s contracted just yet… I guess we can never be too careful. It would be unwise to infect more by not taking precautionary measures.

I was happy to hear the news, and became even more insistent. Asra finally acquiesced. I know it was all for show. As much as he tried to hide it from me, I caught him tenderly toiling over our masks on multiple occasions. 

The night air is warm and delicious. I can feel the city buzz around me with excitement. It’s been a long time since Vesuvia has felt this way, this mysterious plague having understandably put a damper on everything. It’s refreshing to be given the opportunity to forget it, if only for a moment. 

We weave our way through the backroads and the palace soon appears before us. There is quite the crowd converging toward it. Multiple lines wait at the gates. Doctors with full plague attire are lined up like a wall in front of them. They quickly pull people off of the lines and have them remove their masks, shining lights into their eyes. Once the visual inspection is cleared, it looks like the guests are sent into one of the two large tents at the entrance to the palace grounds. 

We’re quickly at the front of the line and are cleared to make our way into a tent. There, Asra and I are separated as we are led behind different privacy screens.

I turn the corner and see a tall man sitting on a stool with a stethoscope around his neck. He’s wearing a light white coat and no plague mask. They must be pretty sure of their visual inspections, then. I wonder what all this extra hassle is for… 

“Hello,” he says cheerfully. “Go ahead and sit on that table over there.” I do as I am told and he pulls his chair closer. Rich auburn waves frame his striking facial features. I can’t help but be slightly mesmerized by him. Once he is close, he clears his throat.

“I’ll check on your heart rate and your breathing with this.” He waves the end of the stethoscope in front of me. “In order to do so, I’ll need you to remove a layer of clothing around your torso.”

“Oh.” I’m slightly embarrassed at that. Even though I shouldn’t be, since I’ve already been to a doctor before. But that one was very old and not nearly as handsome. Internally, I roll my eyes at myself. There’s still one problem, though.

“Um,” I start hesitantly, “I think I’ll have a hard time doing that, considering…” I’m at a bit of a loss for words. He looks at my costume and I can see amusement come to his eyes. He seems to understand the issue immediately. My top is hugging me very tightly. I had such a difficult time dressing myself earlier, I’m afraid if I take it off now… I’ll never get it back on. I’m embarrassed again. “Would it be okay if I just unbutton the top part?” I ask him, flushed.

He’s still visibly amused, but his voice doesn’t betray it. “I guess that will have to do. I usually would have a listen from your back as well but… you seem fine. It should be enough”.

I nod gratefully. He turns and occupies himself with something on his desk to give me some privacy. It's good this thing has buttons that go halfway down from the top. I would have been all out of options otherwise.

Once he hears that I’ve finished playing with the fabric, he turns back around and brings the stethoscope to my exposed chest. It’s icy cold. He listens intently. His face is turned away, but he is close enough for me to get a good look at his eyes. They're a pretty grey. I notice myself staring and I get flustered again. I hope my heart doesn’t betray me by speeding up. He’s listening to it through a _stethoscope_ for god’s-sake.

I joke to calm myself. I can’t help it, it’s my default coping mechanism. “I’m surprised you would make such an exception for me, Doctor, considering how sick I am.”

He looks back up at me in astonishment. His face breaks into a jaunty grin as he removes the stethoscope from his ears and my chest. He raises an eyebrow at me. “I’m surprised you would confess that to the man who will clear you, or not, for entry into the Masquerade.”

My breath catches in my throat and I gape at him. “I guess I’m just stupid like that,” I admit.

He laughs. “Unfortunately for you, you’re perfectly healthy.” His kind eyes fix mine. “You’re free to enjoy the rest of your night.” 

I sigh in relief. Now that I’ve calmed down, I realize how unfortunate it must be for all of these doctors to be stuck out here, while we go off to have fun. I start to button up my top. “I’m sorry you won’t be able to, since you have to work."

“Oh? But what do you mean?” he questions. “I won’t even see the time go by with such a batch of interesting patients.” He raises an eyebrow at me again and suppresses a grin. 

_Did he just… flirt?_

I immediately meet him in an equally playful tone. “Well, _I_ , at the very least, would be _devastated_ to miss out on all of the food tonight… but I understand. You seem to have the better option here.” I wave to the tent around us.

“Oooh, you got me. That _will_ be a shame. Especially since they always seem to have my favorite fig cake. Have you ever had it?” 

“No. I’ll be sure to keep an eye out for it, though.” I smile at him. “Maybe even bring you a piece, Doctor...?”

“Devorak.” He meets my smile with his own. “I’ll hold you to that, then. Have fun.” He winks at me as I walk out from behind the privacy screen. _Yeah. He definitely did._ I feel my face get hot.

“What was that all about?” Asra’s voice rings out from behind me. I freeze in my tracks. I don’t turn to him, afraid that he’ll take a look at my face and see the guilt written all over it. He saunters up and peers over my shoulder at me. “Were you just _flirting_ with your _doctor?_ ” he interrogates me in mock indignation. He always teases me when I am feeling the most vulnerable.

 _“Asraaaa.”_ I whine. He just gives out a hearty laugh and walks away, leaving me to chase after him. Once we are out of the tent, I grab his hand and turn him to face me. I take a moment to gently smooth back his hair. “You know I only have eyes for you.”

He snorts. “I’ll accept that response for now.” 

I laugh, relieved that he isn’t actually upset. We put our masks back on and make our way over the bridge and into the palace. 

Let the fun begin.


	2. The Last Masquerade pt.2

We ease into the night by taking a glass of champagne and leisurely strolling through the different rooms of the palace. It’s more beautiful than I have ever seen it. The Count truly pulled out all the stops tonight. Every show, every room, is elaborate. I can’t fathom how much funding was poured into it all. 

The whole party is much more uproarious than I’ve ever seen it as well. People are definitely using this as a much needed escape. The frenetic energy swirling around me stirs me up. I feel jittery. I want to move, dance, run… _something_. Instead, I plant my feet and try my best to watch the acrobat show that Asra seems to be enjoying. I think he can feel my restlessness since he finally turns to give me a knowing look.

“Shall we go to the ballroom?”

“Yes!” I blurt. I can’t contain my energy anymore. I start dashing away. He quickly follows behind me.

We burst into the ballroom. Much to my disappointment, no one is dancing. Talking echoes around the large room and smooth music is in the background. I sigh in disappointment. “Looks like it’s too early.”

His eyes shine as he puts his hand behind my head and pulls me into him fondly. “Don’t look so sullen. You’re too impatient.” 

Suddenly, the talking stops. Coming down the main stairs are the Count and the Countess. It’s easy to tell them apart from any of the other guests. Their ornate costumes and their tall figures don’t leave a doubt in any of our minds. The Count is also known to be incapable of making a silent entrance. He doesn’t disappoint.

“People of Vesuvia!” His voice booms around the room. “It is I, your beloved Count!” Many of the guests start to cheer at his proclamation. I catch Asra rolling his eyes next to me. “Tell me, have I left anything to be desired tonight?” Shouts of _no_ bounce off of the high ceilings. He roars with laughter, obviously pleased with himself.

Countess Nadia steps silently down the stairs next to him. She is the subtle type. If I were to make a guess, she’s made much more of an impression on the crowd than the Count. Most eyes are transfixed on her, mine included. 

They both reach the bottom of the steps and break away from each other to mingle with the guests. Everyone in the room resumes their conversations as they do so. The perfect tag-team. What an entrancing couple. As insufferable as the Count can be, when paired with Nadia, they exude power and grace. Asra sees me follow them with my eyes.

I look at him. “Sorry. Everytime I see the Countess I am reminded of her kindness to me when I arrived in Vesuvia.” 

After the accident, I was sent in my parents’ stead to perform at the Masquerade. I felt sick to my stomach the whole way there. Pulling into Vesuvia didn’t help at all. This was the first time I was traveling, and would be performing, without them. I was also mourning. I was so young to lose them. Luckily, I had my aunt here to take me in. 

I wanted to keep the appointments my parents’ had made in order to have some semblance of normalcy. This was also the opportunity to ease any financial burden I’d cause my aunt by moving in with her. Still, I felt terrible about everything, and I was afraid I would never feel better again. Meeting Asra on that first day helped distract me and lightened my sorrowful heart. Though, I only truly felt at ease when I met the Countess. So dignified and kind... She encouraged me. She spoke straight to my core, melting the ice around my heart and loosening the knots in my stomach.

She gave me hope. 

A server walks through with a tray of more champagne. We quickly finish our glasses and take new ones. 

“Do you ever miss it?” Asra asks gently. He knows that I’m reminiscing.

The performing, the adoration, the company of those with riches and influence... It feels like it was all a different lifetime.

I sigh. “There are aspects of it, of course. But… I just couldn’t do it anymore.” He gives a small nod. He knows these things. He lived through all of it with me, even if it was from a distance at first. “I would have to say that I do miss the adrenaline of it… knowing that every action had to be flawless. Maybe that’s why I still love dancing so much.” I smile to myself nostalgically. “Though, part of the thrill was knowing everyone was watching. No one watches me now.”

“I do,” he says earnestly. He’s too sweet. I move myself closer to him to nuzzle my face into his neck and breathe him in.

“Asra!” A boisterous voice calls out, making us jump apart. We turn around to see the person stomping toward us is the Count himself. I give Asra a questioning look. _When did he get to know the Count on a first-name basis?_ “I could pick you out of a crowd easily with that white mess you call hair. Even masked!” He howls with laughter. He walks over to slam Asra on the back. Asra’s pushed forward on impact and I see a glimpse of annoyance flash in his eyes. It’s gone just as quickly as it had appeared, and is replaced with a cool look.

“Count Lucio, congratulations on throwing such a fine party. The City thanks you,” he says, poised.

“Of course it does.” Lucio slaps him on the back again as he throws his head back in laughter. I see annoyance flash in Asra’s eyes once more. But as quickly as it disappears, so too does the Count’s demeanor darken. He snaps his head back and leans over him. “My question is, do _you_ thank me?”

I keep myself silent, paralyzed. The tension just dropped like a wet blanket around us. I feel how oppressive and menacing it is. _What is going on?_

Asra somehow remains undisturbed, or at the very least puts up a convincing front. “What loyal citizen of Vesuvia wouldn’t thank their generous Count for an opportunity to spend a night in revelry?” he responds, circumlocutory. I know that escape tactic well. Lucio seems to pick something up too. 

“Well,” the count gives him a large grin. “I hope that it’ll give you the opportunity to carefully think over my proposition.” 

“Proposition?” I ask before I can stop myself. I feel Asra glare at me.

Lucio turns to me in surprise, as if noticing me for the first time. His grin becomes sinister as he takes me in. “Now who could this be…?”

“No one.” Asra quickly jumps in, pulling the attention of the Count back to himself. “The time you allowed me to deliberate isn’t over yet.” Asra’s tone is a little more forceful than before, his show of tranquility is slipping.

Lucio's menacing grin is still plastered to his face. “If the answer isn’t already yes, I guess I will have to find ways to be more… persuasive.” His eyes slip back over to me, before he turns around and struts away from us. “Musicians!” he hollers. The music stops abruptly. “Let’s pick up the tempo in here!” 

The musicians immediately play fast-paced music. The guests start dancing animatedly. As Lucio is swallowed by the moving crowd, Asra grabs my wrist and forcibly pulls me out of the ballroom. His grip is tight and his pace quick. We speed down the halls and burst out of the back door. He marches us toward the hedge gardens and only stops once we’ve walked into the maze for a bit. He listens for movement around us. Only the noise of the partying in the palace drifts over the grounds. We’re completely alone out here. 

“What were you thinking?” He turns to me, visibly angry. “Do you not know who the Count is?” 

I sputter for a moment. _Where is this coming from?_

“Of course I know who the Count is! Have you not forgotten how that man insulted me to my face, a mere adolescent at the time!” 

Wait a second, this isn’t relevant. 

“And don’t think playing the anger card on _me_ will get you out of explaining _yourself!”_ I spit. “ _When,_ pray tell, did you have time to become buddies with the Count?”

His face falls. _That’s what I thought._ I wait expectantly. 

“You want an explanation…” he hesitates “... as to how I seem to have gotten closer with the Count?”

I nod. “And, while you’re at it, maybe you can fill me in on _why you failed to mention anything before.”_

His hard manner with me has crumbled. “I’m not going to tell you that,” he says timidly.

_WHAT?_

“And _why_ is that??” I ask him furiously.

“I’m not going to tell you that… because I don’t want to waste this night on unpacking trivial matters.”

He’s avoiding things again. I tsk loudly, furrowing my brow and crossing my arms. He’s always so secretive. 

In an instant, he grabs my face and puts his lips to mine. I feel his tongue slip into my mouth. I stumble backwards in shock. 

He pulls away and looks at me mischievously. “I’m not going to tell you that, because I came here to enjoy this night with you, and we will have a _lifetime_ ahead of us to discuss unpleasant things.”

I feel myself breathing heavily from the surprise earlier. I bring my fingers up to touch my lips, incredulous. As much as I try to resist, a smile creeps to my face.

“ _I will accept that response for now,_ ” I imitate. I raise my eyes to meet his. 

He purses his lips in amusement. “Hmm. Where have I heard that before?” He brings one of my hands up to his face, tenderly pressing my fingers to his mouth. After a moment, he pulls it away and looks at me roguishly. “Come. We don’t want you missing out on that dance.”

He leads us back to the palace and into the ballroom. Once I hear the music and see everyone dancing frenetically, my blood starts to pulse. _This is more like it!_ He weaves us through the crowd to find an ideal spot in the middle of the room : not too far from the live music, and just far enough for us to have more room to move. He spins me around to commence and pulls me into him.

“Say…” he whispers in my ear. “Why don’t we see if anyone still wants to watch you?” I look at him in surprise. _Is he suggesting…?_ He winks at me before twirling me away. “Just like old times?” He holds his hand out to me. 

I grin. Just like old times. I take a moment to feel the beat of the music inside of me, then I am off. I’m light on my feet as ever. He mirrors and shadows me, the perfect compliment to every single one of my movements. It’s like he can predict every one of my steps before I take it. Unsurprising, since we spent so many years dancing in the streets together by the marketplace. It evolved from a rare activity we partook in whenever we happened to cross paths, to a rather frequent affair as we saw more of each other. It was a great way to stir up a crowd and get a few gold pieces. I’m taken back to these memories as we step together, moving in and out, a constant push and pull. I can almost feel the eyes of the crowd then, watching us. 

_No,_ I realize. This feeling isn’t from a distant memory. This is from _right now._ People have started observing, enchanted. I feel a thrill run through my entire body as my adrenaline kicks in. _Every action must be flawless._ We pick up the intensity, encouraged by the crowd, and take the opportunity to use the new space provided to us on the floor. We turn to run away from each other, before tumbling back to center with round offs and aerial cartwheels. I hear spectators gasp as we gracefully come together, facing one another.

He reaches out and grabs my wrists, pulling them above my head. I know where he's going with this. I prepare myself as he gracefully slides me on the floor in between his legs and pulls me back up. It was so agile that I felt like I was levitating… it _must_ have given that same impression to watching eyes. My inference is confirmed by the breathless cheers around us. 

We back away from each other. Using the momentum from twisting my torso and my left leg, I swing my right leg high into the air. He knows the move well and catches my right foot at his head, repositioning me by grabbing my thigh and twisting me to face him. He walks forward, gripping me tightly as to allow my left foot to softly drag over the floor between his strides ; giving the impression of weightlessness again. More gasps echo around us. We grin at each other. As simple as these moves are, they always were a hit. He drops my leg and spins me to face away from him and toward the crowd. We pant together for a moment, viewing the open-mouthed spectators in front of us.

“Ready for the grande finale?” he asks me under his breath. I smile over my shoulder at him. He turns around and we line ourselves back-to-back. I reach my right arm behind me and grab onto his forearm. Then, I crouch at the same moment that he pushes off of the ground, allowing him to roll over my back and land in front of me in a kneeling position. His eyes light up encouragingly, and he hooks his fingers together in front of him. I step onto his raised knee with my left foot, then his hands with my right, and I push off from him, flipping backwards through the air. I land back on my feet a couple of paces away and stumble forward a little. I catch my balance and look up. The room holds its breath. Then, furious applause tumults through it. We laugh as we look at each other and turn to bow at the assembly encircling us. It seems that we stopped the ball. We move together to bow once more, hand in hand. When we come back up for the last time, he speaks in my ear over the thunderous clapping. “They should kiss your feet in veneration. It’s not everyday that they can see a God dance.” 

I laugh over the noise. “ _Gods.”_ I correct him. 

The congregation breaks off and different groups of people approach us to converse animatedly. All of them give us heartfelt compliments. I feel like I’m glowing, stimulated by such an invigorating dance and the adoration I feel from these strangers. At one point, a man bows down low and takes my hand, pulling it toward his lips. Asra quickly places a hand on his face and pushes him back, playfully reproaching him for _touching what isn’t his_. All of us spurt into giggles as the man turns to humbly apologize, his eyes crinkled merrily.

I soon come to realize just how thirsty I feel. Asra promises to go find us something and leaves me alone for the first time tonight. I await patiently and observe the dancers on the floor.

A smooth voice interrupts my viewing. “Had we known you could dance like that, we would have invited you both as performers.” I turn around and see none other than Countess Nadia standing next to me. 


	3. The Last Masquerade pt.3

I didn’t even feel her approach, as silent and graceful as ever.

“Milady.” I bow to her. 

“Please,” she tells me. “Convention is to be disregarded tonight. I am disguised just as you are. We are all the same here.”

I stand back up, my heart racing. This is the first time we have spoken since that day five years ago. I am starstruck to say the least.

She studies what little of my face she can see behind the mask before continuing. “It is peculiar. I had this strange feeling as I watched you that I had seen you perform before…” she trails off. “And now, closer, you seem oddly familiar.”

“If milady remembers me, she has an incredible memory.” I know the point of the Masquerade is to stay incognito, but _my Countess_ is asking about my identity. I remove my mask to reveal my face to her. “Kealla Withernshot. It is an honor to remeet you.”

“Withernshot…” she pauses. “Yes, I remember now.” I see her eyes move as she recalls. “You were that child that made my first Masquerade buzz with excitement. A spectacular illusionist. You made quite the impression, not unlike tonight.”

I am delighted to be hearing this from her. I go to open my mouth to express my gratitude when she stops me. “It’s a shame we haven’t had you back."

I am taken aback. “I appreciate your compliments, milady. But please do not regret that. I have long since stopped my trade in illusionary magic,” I attempt reassure her. She shouldn’t fret over me, however small it may be. 

“How unfortunate. Though I am sure you had your reasons.” 

Our conversation stops but she doesn’t move away. After standing in silence for a while, absentmindedly observing the dance-floor, I muster up the courage to engage with her again. 

“This is by far the most lovely Masquerade I have attended. Did milady help with the planning of this event? I can only imagine how it would lack the same sophistication without a fine touch.” 

She looks at me in surprise. I am aware of my blunder too late. I just called the Count _unrefined._ I swallow hard, but she quickly puts me at ease as a warm smile comes to her lips. 

“You flatter me.” She says, her eyes twinkling. “But no, my husband would not allow me to help,” she sighs before looking up at me again, a gleam in her eye. “At least, not overtly.” 

This woman is… spellbinding. She simply smiled when I insulted her husband and admitted to her secret workings for this party. Why would she do that? 

My gaze is, miraculously, pulled away from her and to the entrance of the ballroom. I now see why. Asra is standing there holding two drinks. The Count has an arm around him, holding him firmly in place with his golden gauntlet. That menacing grin takes up his whole face while he whispers in his ear. After a moment, Asra’s eyes go wide in terror. That expression makes me feel like I’ve been plunged in ice. I am petrified. 

The Countess notices the change in my demeanor and follows my eyes to take in the scene. I can’t read her thoughts as she observes. Finally, the Count lets go of Asra and walks away. Asra stands in shock for a moment before making his face blank and resuming his walking. He locks eyes with me briefly before looking down again.

Once he’s closer, Countess or not, I have to ask him. “What happened?”

He hands me a glass without looking at me. “The Count was generous enough to invite me to dinner at the palace tomorrow.” His voice doesn’t betray the fear I saw in his eyes earlier.

Nadia contemplates us silently. She opens her mouth, turning to me. “Will Kealla be joining us as well?” she asks.

I open my mouth to graciously accept when-

“No!” Asra cuts in abrasively. The Countess and I both look at him in surprise. He composes himself again before continuing. “Unfortunately, Kealla needs to keep an eye on the magic shop. Business has been booming lately.”

The shop is never busy in the evening, and it should be especially quiet after the Masquerade. On top of it all, it would only stay open halfway through dinner. We could just close early. But.. he obviously doesn’t want me there. Having seen the look on his face earlier, I will do anything to put him at peace. I nod at the Countess. She seems to understand immediately. I almost wonder if she understands more than I do. 

“Well, it was a pleasure meeting you again, Kealla,” she says. “It brought back fond memories of my first days in Vesuvia. If you ever decide to practice illusion again, please let us know. The palace would be delighted to have you back for an encore.”

I thank the Countess and begin to bow before stopping myself. Instead, I place my mask back on my face and smile at her. She smiles back before gliding away.

I look at Asra. Before I can open my mouth, he does. “Please don’t ask me anything else.” He takes my hand and places it over his heart. I can feel it race in his chest. I look at him in concern. “I promise I will tell you everything. Just, not right now.”

I hate this. But I am not going to push it. We stand there for a while, unmoving. With every breath he takes I can feel his heart-rate slow. Once it’s back to normal, he brightens and turns to me. “Are you hungry?”

“Famished,” I respond. With everything that has happened, I hadn’t even realized. We walk into the dining hall and admire the luscious spread before us. Every delicacy one could imagine seems to be on that table, all color-coordinated : salty food at one end and sweets at the other. The guests have already done a number on many of the dishes, but there is still more than enough to go around. As we examine all of our options, we pass Procurator Volta. I recognize her immediately. The palace courtiers are always… unusual. And not easy to forget. She’s digging into the pot-pies with her fingers and shoving them into her mouth unceremoniously. 

“ _So hungry…”_ I hear her mumble between mouthfuls. “... _but so delicious!”_

Asra and I give each other a wary look before proceeding past her. I stack my plate high with savory items before looking for a seat. It’s surprisingly crowded and I can’t find anything available for two. Asra walks up behind me and scans the floor as well. After searching for a while, he stalks off and I follow. I’m sweeping the tables with my eyes but I can’t see what he found. Finally, he stops in front of an empty chair at the corner of a table. 

“Sit,” he bids. 

I shake my head. “No, you. You found it.”

“I have a solution for both of us, then.” He plops down and pulls me onto his lap. “It’s no fun eating while standing up, especially on sore feet.” He’s right. It feels good to sit. We quickly start digging into our plates. We don’t speak, too preoccupied with the task before us. The first time I hear his voice again is when he stops a waiter that is clearing trash to ask for more drinks. Seats next to us open as a group of four stand and walk away. I transfer myself to one and we both have a moment alone with our meal. Only when the waiter comes around with our beverages do we acknowledge each other. We clink our glasses and take a sip.

“ _Woah.”_ I say. “You weren’t kidding around when you ordered this.” I can almost feel it go straight to my head. 

“I thought it would be to your taste,” he responds innocently. _Mhmm._

We continue feasting in silence, meditative. A lot of our meals are like this now. Not like it’s a bad thing, or awkward for us. We simply don’t have much to say since we’ve been spending so much time together. It differs from our relationship from before… I don’t feel my heart yearn for him like it used to since he’s stopped disappearing. I much prefer having him by my side.

I finish my plate and push it away, sighing in satisfaction. I see he’s still working on his but is almost done. I feel a buzz from the drink overcome me as I teeter to my feet. 

“Stay,” I command. “I’m picking out our desserts.” He raises his eyebrows in comprehension and continues eating serenely. 

I make my way to the dessert section and start scanning the options. Macarons, mont blanc, mille-feuille, eclairs... and an assortment of fruit tarts look up at me. That, and a variety of different cakes and ice creams lined-up between them. I’m not hungry anymore, but I want to try everything. I start placing small portions of as many pastries as I can fit onto our plate. 

When I scan the array of cakes, my eyes fall onto one : the fig cake. I remember the doctor when I spot it and take a sliver for Asra and I. Before I move on, I grab another clean dish and place a large piece carefully in the center. 

I am satisfied with my choices and am about to walk away when I remember it’s missing a final touch. I move toward the ice creams and look to see if they have it. Ah, there it is : rainbow sorbet. I take a considerable spoonful and make my way back to the table with both plates. I place our overflowing dish in between us and put the one holding the solitary piece of fig cake off to the side. 

“What’s that?” Asra asks, spotting it. I shrug and point toward our plate, bringing his attention to the sorbet. His eyes light up when he sees it.

“I know what you like,” I say smugly. I take a spoon and dip into it, bringing it up to his mouth. He accepts my offering and looks at me, delight written all over his face.

“You do. Almost too well.”

Asra picks up a cake with a creamy top and holds it out to me. I lean in to take a bite, when he quickly moves his hand to smash the top over my mouth and nose. I look at him, stunned.

“I trusted you,” I say meekly. I feel cream drip off of my face.

He chortles before taking a napkin and gently wiping the remaining mess from me. “Don’t look so dejected, it was all in good fun.”

All the cakes are as airy as I’ve ever tasted. The creams, simultaneously light and rich. And the sorbet… while it seemed incapable of melting on the table, the second it reaches my mouth, it dissolves pleasantly. We savor every bite. I am giddy. 

I see the fig cake on our plate and try it. While it is less extravagant than the other options, there is something really delicious in its simplicity. I have Asra try it as well and he nods, just as surprised as I am. 

I see a waiter walk by and I stop him. “Sir, I need you to make a delivery to the medical tents outside.” I am feeling quite intrepid. I don’t usually make demands like this to strangers. It must be the alcohol. I pick up the dish with the large piece of fig cake and hand it to him. “This needs to be brought to a certain Doctor Devorak. It is absolutely urgent.” I hear Asra snort beside me. The waiter just raises an eyebrow at me. I know he won’t follow through without some sort of recompense. I sigh and take a few gold pieces out of my pocket, showing them to him by laying them flat on my palm. Then, I close my fist around them and snap my fingers. When I expose my palm again, the pieces are gone. The waiter looks at me, bemused. “You might want to check your front pocket,” I tell him, casually spooning more dessert into my mouth. He suspiciously slides his free hand into it and when it strikes the coins, his eyes go wide in astonishment. 

“I guess I can take a little break." He walks out of the dining hall with the cake in hand, clearly amused.

“I thought you didn’t like ‘cheap trickery’ like that anymore.” Asra pries.

“I’m in a mood right now. It probably has something to do with this.” I swirl the remainder of my drink in front of him. “Sneaky devil.”

He ripostes. “Not unlike you. The doctor has made quite an impression on you, if he still comes to your mind after everything I’ve given you tonight.” He sighs melodramatically.

I don’t let myself get flustered at his provocation. “I’m just a concerned patient,” I parry. “We should be grateful to them, after all. Otherwise, a certain thorn in my side wouldn’t have let me attend this Masquerade.” I look at him resolutely. He just smiles and raises his hands, forfeiting.

Once we’ve cleaned our plate and emptied our glasses, we stroll through the gardens. More people have come out now, taking a break from the debauchery inside the palace. I’m holding onto his arm as we amble. We finally reach a beautiful fountain and stop. The way it is lit up in the night is magical. I sit on the edge and run my fingers through the water. Then, I scan the sky above me, choked with stars, before closing my eyes to breathe the air languidly. 

I look to Asra as he stands before me. He gazes at the sky but seems to feel me stare. He peers down at me lovingly. 

“This night has meant everything to me,” I pour my heart out to him.

He grabs my hand and lifts me back to my feet before pulling me into his arms. I wrap mine around his midsection and pull even harder, laying my head contentedly on his shoulder. He lays his head on mine and we stand there for a long while, swaying under the stars. 

Gently, he places a hand under my chin and tilts my face toward him. I close my eyes and feel the warmth move from my mouth and through my whole body as he passionately kisses me. I adjust myself to get a better angle, and respond fervently. I let go of his midsection and drape my arms over his shoulders, slipping my fingers into his hair to pull. I feel him gasp and can’t restrain my smile as we continue to kiss. Tentatively, I peak at him. He locks his eyes with my own, fire burning behind them. Then, he backs me into a willow tree. He pins me there and runs his hands up and down my torso. I tremble under his intensity. 

Once he finishes roving his hands over me, he steadies my face in his hand and bites my lower lip, pulling a gasp out of me. He takes that opening to kiss me deeply, exploring the inside of my mouth with his tongue. When he finally pulls away, I am winded. My heart beats so quickly I’m afraid it will jump out of my chest. He looks at me self-satisfactorily.

“Let’s go home." 


	4. Home Again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I just HAD to put a little note here because this is my absolute favorite chapter so far. I hope you love it as much as I did. Trying to capture the proximity between the apprentice and Asra was definitely a treat <3 Enjoy the fluff... while it lasts ;)

**Home Again**

We step back into the shop. All is exactly as we left it. The glass counter, the books and items lining the shelves behind it... Everything is spotless since I convinced Asra to deep clean it all before the Masquerade. _Let us start anew_. I smile in contentedness at how fresh it feels in here. Though cleaning it hasn’t gotten rid of its warm familiarity. 

I collapse into a cushioned chair, weary after such an eventful night. I feel that buzz from earlier fade. Asra removes his heeled boots by the door and saunters over. He kneels to delicately remove my shoes. Once they are off, he looks up at me and gives me a sweet smile. I return it, basking in the glow of such an intoxicating night with him. His expression quickly turns roguish. I feel mischief is brewing behind those eyes. 

“Up.” He instructs, pulling me to my sore feet. 

“What is it?” I ask, trying to unravel his scheming.

“How could you leave me to defend you like that with that man? You didn’t even go to defend yourself.”

I laugh. “That mystery man after the dance? He was only offering me a revering kiss on the hand. I deserve it, don’t you think? You _did_ say so yourself....”

He tsks. “I may have insinuated that, but I’m afraid that you let that get to your head.”

“Mmm..” I respond, unconvinced. 

He places his hands firmly on my shoulders. “First the doctor, then, this man…” his eyes twinkle as he pretends to scold me. “You’ve been very naughty. Make it up to me."

“Hm? However shall I do that?”

He raises a finger and runs it across my forehead. It tickles beneath his touch. Violent laughter bursts from me. I know this only too well. 

“Stop!” I yell out between cackles. I grab his hand in both of mine and hold it. I am breathless, but I can’t repress my smile. “I didn’t say I was okay with this!” 

“And I didn’t say I was okay with you entertaining the advances of strange men.” A devilish look gleams in his eyes. I know when he gets like this, there is no stopping him. He wants to play, and he won’t cease until he gets what he wants out of me. 

Asra started playing this “game” with me very close to when we first met. I always considered it torture. I was 15 at the time, he was 18. He said I was an annoying child that needed something to put them in line from time to time. When I think back, I can’t help but cringe, recognizing how true that must have been. Whenever I would stumble upon him then, I would follow him around like a little lost duckling. On the days when he would have enough of my shenanigans, he would hold me down and run his fingers all over my face, making me laugh until I cried ( _o_ _r worse_ ). He always seemed to take pleasure in that cruel punishment. It never deterred me from trailing him, though. I couldn’t help but be pulled to him on every occasion that we met. He was magnetic.

That was something that was left in the early years of our relationship. Once I had gained maturity and our relationship evolved into friendship, and then courtship, it was forgotten. Obviously, not forgotten forever. 

My heart races as flashbacks of this little magic trick send my body into a panic. “Fine, fine! If this is what you want, I’ll give it to you. But only for a little bit,” I pause. “In other words, please don’t make me piss myself again.” 

He laughs at my plea. “That was one time.”

“One time too many!” 

He snorts. “You’re right, you’re right. I apologize for it now. I don’t think I ever did, since you were so infuriating at the time.”

“It’s understandable. But thank you.”

He smiles gleefully to himself and places his finger back to my forehead. He hasn’t started the magic yet, so I can look straight into his striking eyes. “I promise it’ll only be for a tiny bit. Then, I’ll forgive you.”

I nod, trying to put on a brave face, but it breaks underneath my giggly demeanor. It’s all in anticipation of what’s coming next. The tickling starts as he runs his fingers all over my face again, just like old times. He moves to originally uncharted parts on my body, now : going up and down the exposed skin on my arms and neck. Uncontrolled laughter spills out of me. He’s backed me into the counter, I have no other areas that I can escape to. Between guffaws, I manage to catch glimpses at his face. A large grin is plastered on it. Finally, it cracks under pressure. He can no longer contain it and starts roaring with laughter as well. Once that happens, his concentration is broken and his magic stops flowing. He drops his hand and we are both left hunched over and panting between spurts of giggles. After we’ve calmed down, we look at each other, dumb happiness painted all over our faces. I never thought that could be so… pleasant. I am experiencing so many new things as I grow with him.

Our breathing slows and goes back to normal. I notice, much to my exasperation, that that impish look still shines in his eye. Where is he getting all of this energy from after such a long night? 

He pulls me close to him and starts to kiss my face. “Alright, I forgive you.” I feel a smile repressed between his lips, so I am highly suspicious. But his soft kisses artfully move down to my neck and I am enraptured in his embrace. Tentatively, he moves up to my ear. I feel his hot breath on it before he leans in and... _bites_.

“Ow!” I scream out, more in surprise than in pain. I gape at him, scandalized. His grin doesn’t waver. 

“Oh, I am sorry. I am just _so very hungry,_ and you seemed _delicious.”_ He makes his voice high and mocking, impersonating that strange courtier, Volta. 

“That’s terrifying.” I say, deadpanning. 

He reaches out for me. “Come, let me have another bite!” 

Adrenaline courses through my veins and I quickly back away, sliding along the front edge of the counter. He continues stepping toward me, first very casually. Then, that devilish intensity comes back to his eye and he picks up the pace. I am left back-pedaling furiously away from him and up the stairs toward the room. I start laughing again, and manage to stay a few steps ahead. But at the top of the steps, I trip backwards and fall on my ass. Hard. 

“Asra!” I yell out. This time there is no laughter ringing in my voice. It’s been chased away by both my smarting behind and my embarrassment. “That really hurt!” I scold him. I can’t help it, I feel myself pouting. 

His rakishness dims slightly, but doesn’t go away completely. He’s still playing. He’s indefatigable. “Poor little baby. So injured they can’t even walk anymore, hmm?” He picks me up. “Thankfully, I still can. How lucky.”

He saunters over to the bed and sits, adjusting me on his lap. I finally feel him calm. But something else lingers in his eyes now. “I don’t know if you heard, but I am an excellent healer.” His voice is soft. The mischief is gone and is replaced by something else… longing.

“Oh, I’ve heard a thing or two about that.” I respond. “But with something like this,” I shake dramatically, “I am unsure of your capabilities. It’s... too much for you to handle.”

His lips curl into a close-lipped smile. “Let’s try. I’ll move my hands around your body and you tell me when I get closer to the spot of injury, hm?” 

I sigh, feigning distress. “That will have to do.”

He sets his hands on my shoulders to start. “Good Healer, you are very cold,” I tell him.

He runs them down the top part of my back. “Still cold.” 

They roam now to the lower part of my back. “Warmer.” He smirks and slides his fingers along the strip of exposed skin between my top and bottoms. His caresses make my skin tingle. I bring my face closer to his. He leans in to give me a hungry kiss in response. His hands slide down lower and he stops them right at my coxis. His eyes move to meet mine, waiting for an invitation.

“Warmer.” I whisper into him.

I feel his hands descend. A shiver runs through my whole body. In a flash, I am splayed on the bed with him on top of me. We kiss like two long-lost lovers reunited, desperately attempting to meld into one.

***

I trace delicate swirls on his bare chest with my finger. He lies next to me silently, eyes closed as if he is asleep. Without opening them, he reaches up a hand and lays it on mine, effectively flattening it.

“Stop that. It’s time to sleep.”

Sleep? How could I sleep now? I am too elated from this perfect night. 

“If I did that, this night would be over.”

He tutts. “And it would be time for it. Look how bright it is outside. All things come to an end at some point, only a kid would try to fight against that.”

I roll my eyes, even though he can’t see it. “I’m too energized now anyway, thanks to you.”

“Well, I am not because I am very old, unlike you.”

I blow out air. “GOD Asra, you’re only three years older than me! Shut up.”

“Gladly. If you do so first.”

I exhale, deflated. “Fine. I’m turning around, though. Your beautiful face will keep me awake.” His eyes are still closed but a smile creeps to his lips.

I flip around, wrapping myself in his arms as I do. He follows me willingly, cradling me. I can feel his soft breath on my neck. He pulls me closer and stills, comfortable. His breathing slows as he drifts to sleep.

This warmth. This tenderness that I feel from him every day. I don’t know why he chose me. I can only hope he feels as much love from me as I do from him.

My mind runs through the whole night again. How could it have been so perfect? How is that fair to anyone else that hasn’t experienced it? I must have taken all the goodness away from everyone and kept it all for myself. How selfish I am.

But how happy I feel. My face gets hot as I think of the more intimate details of our night. Our show-stopping dance at the masquerade. Our hysterics downstairs....

The way he tenderly placed his lips to every part of my body when we moved to the bed. 

My heart feels so full. I breathe in deeply, savoring the feeling. I want to remember every instance of this night… and every instance of our love since the very beginning.

I can feel sleep creep up on me. I softly fall into it, surrounded by the warmth, and the love, of the person holding me.


	5. Good Day, Bad Omen

**Good Day, Bad Omen**

I awaken to the sensation of fabric dropping onto my face. Discombobulated, I reach up to grab it. When I pull the tissue away, I realize it is my top from last night. Half-asleep, I look around to understand where it has come from, only to see Asra’s smug face. He’s fully dressed for the day.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you. I was just trying to clean up.” 

I close my eyes and take a few deep breaths. “Asra,” I growl. “If you had woken me like this on any other morning after a long night out… I _may_ have had to kill you.”

He just laughs and leans down to give me a long wake-up kiss. I feel myself rouse slightly with it. When he pulls away, he looks at me fondly. “I’m sorry, that was mean of me. I was just too jealous that you got to sleep in bed, so cozy and undisturbed, while I have to work.”

I scoff. “You don’t _have_ to work. I, the _inheritor,_ _told_ you to stay closed the whole day after the Masquerade, like _everyone else._ ”

He starts to justify himself as he bustles around the room. “I have appointments for some readings that did not want to reschedule. It couldn’t be helped.” 

Since we’ve put him in charge of the shop, he has worked constantly. I think that he’s still afraid to lose it… fearful that he’ll have to move his commerce back into the streets. It’s completely unfounded since my aunt and I would never see that happen. It isn’t just sentimental, it’s a good business move. She needs to tend to the new shop in the Goldgrave district, and profit has been up with Asra running things in Center City. He has become one of the most well-respected magician’s in Vesuvia. That reputation brings in a lot of clientele.

I let out a puff of air in exasperation. “This all seems like a _you_ problem that _I’ve_ been dragged into.” I hold my top above me, examining it. It’s ripped clean down the middle. The fight the two of us had to put up in order to remove it last night comes to mind and I laugh to myself. “I have to say, I was impressed with how you managed to rip this off of me."

He stops what he’s doing and turns to me puckishly. “Oh, but I had help.” 

I snort. “That you did.” I direct my speech toward the fabric in my hands now. “Thank you for your service,” I whisper before bringing it to my lips. Asra watches me in amusement. I throw it at him as I move to get up.

“ _Don’t_ come out of bed right now,” he orders. I look at him, perplexed. “You’ll seduce me and I’ll never be able to get to my first client on time.” I roll my eyes but stay put, chuckling. I pull the sheets more tightly around me. They feel cool against my skin.

I watch him as he prepares something to eat. He catches me staring. “What are your plans for the day?” he asks. At that exact moment I feel something slither over the sheets. When I look down, I see that it is Faust slinking up to me. She stops and gives me her cute little snakey-smile. _There’s_ my girl. I’m surprised she didn’t pop out of her hiding spot last night when we got home. She must not have wanted to get involved in our mania.

I lay out my hand and she slithers up my arm and all the way to my face. I give her a kiss on the top of her head and start scratching under her chin. It’s always her favorite. “Well, since I will obviously be on shop duty in the evening…” I look at him out of the corner of my eye as I speak. He glances at me, sensing my prodding, but quickly continues to occupy himself in the kitchen. “...I figured I would take my time during the day to check on my aunt.” 

He walks over with two bowls of oatmeal, handing me one as he sits on the bed in front of me. I look at it and curl up my nose. He knows I hate this stuff, but he always forces me to eat it. “Sheesh. Now that I think about it, I haven’t been home in a while.”

He starts to eat and I do the same, but with reluctance. “Well, that’s a good idea then,” he responds. “Give her my regards. And tell her I apologize for keeping you.”

“Mhhm yeah, it’s all your fault. I’m going to stick to that story.”

He finishes his bowl and watches me gingerly pick at mine. He tsks fondly and leans over to kiss my head. “Well, my client should be arriving. If you slip out before I’m finished, I’ll see you later.” At that, he stands and walks down the stairs to the shop below.

I look at Faust on my shoulder and she gazes back at me with her round eyes. “Do you wanna help me with this?” I ask her, holding the bowl out. She just flicks her tongue at me and stays still. I’m on my own, then. I eat as much as I can possibly manage before getting up to get dressed. As I pull on my clothes, the front bell rings downstairs, indicating the door opening. I can hear Asra talking with his client before settling around the reading table in the back room.

I don’t want to eavesdrop on anything, so I dress as quickly as possible. Faust has slid up to settle onto my head as I frantically get prepared. Once finished, I grab my bag and tiptoe downstairs, making sure to leave her on the counter before I head out the door. “I’ll see you tonight. We’ll have too much fun with the house to ourselves,” I whisper.

She flicks her tongue again before slithering away. I turn and exit the shop.

***

I still feel hungry as I make my way to our place in Goldgrave. I couldn’t manage to eat enough of that oatmeal. Had the baker been open today, I would have gotten a hefty serving of pumpkin bread. Just thinking of it makes my mouth water. But, alas, Vesuvia looks like a ghost-town. Most of the city is still asleep after such hyperactivity from the night before.

I arrive home and unlock the protective seals on the door to get in. Normally, my aunt would have opened shop by now, but like everyone _besides Asra_ she’s taking the day off. I step in and the lingering smell of incense hits my nose.

“Hello?” I call out, closing the door behind me. I hear the kettle scream in the kitchen before it dies down. My aunt comes out of it with a large teapot and a teacup in hand. 

“Kealla!” She exclaims pleasantly, spotting me. She places the pot on the table in the middle of the room, and I approach her to give her a kiss on the cheek. “I was beginning to wonder if I was ever going to see you again." Her tone isn't reproachful in the slightest. I can see the laugh in her eyes as she teases me.

“I’m sorry about that.” I admit. “Asra told me to tell you that it’s all his fault.”

She chuckles. “I highly doubt that.” 

She forces me to sit and goes to search for another teacup. “I’m glad I brewed so much. You showed up at the right moment.” She pours tea into both of the cups and sets them down in front of us. “Now, fill me in.”

As we sip on the aromatic liquid, I briefly recount the most interesting events over the past couple of weeks. I’m most proud to tell her that I’ve finally managed to manifest water, something I’ve been struggling to do for years. Asra finally helped me through it, though it was extremely frustrating since it always came easily to him. After that short retail, I start to narrate what happened at the Masquerade. My aunt grins over her teacup as she sees me light up, relating every exciting instant of the party. She’s as surprised as I am that the Countess remembered me. I don’t mention anything about Lucio and Asra, though. When I finish my animated storytelling, she smiles at me serenely. 

“Ah, youth,” she says wistfully.

I snort. “Stop saying that like _you_ weren’t at the party all night, cackling with your group of friends! With how boisterous you all are I was sure I would run into you... or at the very least _hear_ you.” She shrugs and laughs. 

She sees I’m almost finished with my tea and stops me. “Drain it and give it here”. She holds out her hand for the teacup and I follow her directions. While Asra has always had an affinity with tarot cards for divination, my aunt is extremely talented in tasseography.

She takes the cup into her hands and studies the leaves, furrowing her brow. _Uh oh._ She’s not one to fail to interpret the symbology right away. That must mean… she’s not happy with what she’s seeing.

“What is it?” I ask, suddenly nervous. 

“Well…” she hesitates. “I first had the impression that I saw… a Knife. Which means that through fighting and hatred, you may meet...”

“Disaster.” I finish her sentence. She nods.

“But now that I look at it again… it could be a Dagger? Which could mean that you will receive help from a friend.” She is trying desperately to find a positive meaning. She is never objective when it comes to doing readings for me. We’re too entwined emotionally.

I exhale, unconvinced. “If you’re starting to doubt your interpretation, it could also be _a Cross_ which means _trouble, delay, or death._ ” I am somewhat familiar with reading tea leaves, having picked up a few things from her over the years. 

She recognizes that I see right through her bluff. If her initial impression is ‘wrong’, there are dozens of other things it could be, good and bad. “Ah well, none of this stuff is set in stone. I’m starting to wonder how accurate my readings are anymore.” 

We both let the subject drop. I decide to quell the sense of foreboding I’ve felt since her prediction, and we converse cheerfully. 

The hours with her pass quickly, and when I finally check the time, I have to rush out of the door to get back to the shop. “Are you sure you don’t need anything from here? Clothes maybe?” she asks me as I’m at the door. 

I swivel around and smile at her warmly. “No, I have everything I need over there.”

“Well, don’t wait so long to _visit_ your old aunt again. I miss my roomie,” she winks. 

“I still live with you! But you’re right, I’ll come back to stay soon. I promise!”

“Please, don’t do that for my sake. You’re understandably enjoying your time with that elusive boy.”

I sigh happily. “He surprisingly hasn’t been lately. I wonder what it is.” My grin grows and makes my eyes crinkle.

She looks at me cheekily. “I think I have an idea.” 

I blow her a kiss and make my way out. 

A few more people idly roam the streets in the cooler evening air. It seems like things are slowly getting back to normal. Dread starts to seep back into my stomach. The plague is still here, after all. The sleepiness I felt earlier today was in contentment. Now, it’s as if the city is back to its respectful silence, held as it grieves for the sick and the dead. If only the reverie could have lasted. 

I slip back into the shop just as Asra is making his way down the stairs. He looks a little more dressed up than his everyday attire, ready to visit the palace. We approach each other and I start to smooth his top with my hands. He looks… anxious. I want more than anything for him to open up to me but... seeing his uneasiness, I can’t bring myself to ask him about it. It’ll have to wait. 

He gives me a kiss. “Well, keep a good eye on everything.”

I wink. “It’s all in good hands, boss." Before he can side-step me, I press my palm into his chest, stopping him. “Come back soon. I don’t miss missing you.” I am feeling… especially needy tonight. It must be my apprehension about this meeting with the Count. Or maybe the prediction from before...? 

I quickly shake the thoughts from my head. He gives me a distracted smile before stepping out the door. 

As I suspected, no one shows up to the shop. I bide my time by thumbing through numerous volumes on different branches of the occult. I am settled into a cushioned chair with a large stack beside me, rubbing Faust under her chin and petting her little head. 

It’s all fascinating stuff, but is definitely hard to grasp. I feel my sleepiness grow under the candlelight. As I get up to officially close shop, Faust slinks away from me to hide herself in a corner and snooze. Thinking about it, laying down doesn’t seem like a bad idea. We didn’t sleep much. 

I grab a few of the most interesting tomes and slip upstairs. Once I am in my pyjamas, I bring my lantern to the bedside table and settle in. 


	6. Secrets and Symbols

**Secrets and Symbols**

I wake up sometime later and notice that light still floods the room. I must have dozed off as I read. I roll over to turn off the lantern and notice that Asra is back. He’s sitting on the edge of the bed, facing away from me with his feet planted on the floor. His elbows are set on his knees and he leans forward, his head hung. 

“Asra?” I stir myself awake. He doesn’t answer me.

I start to move toward him. “Asra?” I ask again. I place a hand on his back but he still doesn’t reply. He seems to be lost deep in thought, his brow furrowed.

I am half-asleep, but I sidle up behind him, pressing my whole torso into his back and draping my arms over his shoulders. I take one hand and put it to his cheek, gently trying to turn his face toward me. 

“What’s wrong?” I am pleading with him now. _Communicate_ with me. I hate when he closes off like this, holding all of his secrets to himself. 

He sits up straight and turns to me, as if realizing I’m there for the first time. When he spots me, I can see he’s struck by an idea. 

“The cards,” is all he says. He gets up and walks over to his desk to open the drawer. Whenever he’s in this mood, he’s as cryptic as ever. I’ve learned not to waste my breath asking too many questions. I’ll find out what is running through his head eventually. 

He takes out the deck and walks over to sit on his side of the bed. He shuffles them and sets everything up to do a reading for himself. He pulls three cards and places them in front of him on the comforter. He flips over the first one.

Wheel of fortune, upright. I look at him, waiting for an explanation. He just studies it in silence. I’ll have to understand it for myself, then. I sigh in frustration and concentrate, thinking about what it’s telling me. Good luck, destiny… soulmates. I smile to myself. This is what he’s experienced in the near past. Does it have to do with our relationship?

Let’s see what he’s to expect for the present. He turns the second one : The Tower, reversed. Resistance to change, avoiding tragedy. Now... _what_ could this possibly mean? The only thing he offers me is a sigh. He relaxes his brow slightly. He’s obviously understanding something I am not. _Just tell me the question, dammit._

He turns over the third card : the future. The Lovers, reversed. Disharmony, conflict… disunion. His breath catches. I look up at him. His brow is scrunched up once again. He seems distressed… and I can’t help but feel the same way because of it. _No_ , I can’t let myself get fearful. I have no idea what he is asking, so I can’t jump to conclusions.

_What happened today?_

“I can’t believe you only pulled Major Arcana. That’s… incredible.” I try to start a conversation with him. Anything to get more from him. “Some major life-lessons await, huh?” I probe.

Without commenting, he gathers the cards and shuffles them into the deck again. He places the stack in front of me and looks at me expectantly. I want to sleep since it’s late, but I don’t know if I can now. Too many questions swirl in my mind. I want answers too, and I know I won’t be getting them from him any other way.

“How am I supposed to get an answer if I don’t know the question?” I try.

“I know the question, and this is my deck. It’ll answer.”

He’s infuriating. I tutt loudly as I cut the deck. He spreads them out and I choose three cards. He lays them face-down in the order I chose them. 

In the past... The Lovers, upright. Kindred spirits, perfect partnership, romance. I smile again. It quickly falls as I am struck with clarity. That _must_ mean this question has _something_ to do with us. I’m worried about the ones I’ll turn next.

For the present, The Tower, upright. Chaos, destruction… loss. That’s ominous. But I inhale sharply when I realize that I’ve also pulled two of the same cards he did. Yet, in a different order, and with completely opposite meanings. I can’t believe it. I’ve never seen something like it.

I look up at him quickly. His eyes go wide with mine, noticing as well. If the next card follows the same pattern... My heart races now. No, it can’t be. I quickly turn the third card for clarity. In the future… The Wheel of Fortune, reversed. 

I am completely dumbfounded. I pulled all of his cards... but in their opposite forms. And whatever it is… it definitely seems like _I’ll_ be worse off. Bad luck, unwelcome change, disorder, lack of control…

I suck air into my throat. If it truly _is_ about our relationship… destruction is written all over it. I can feel my stomach tie itself in knots.

“That’s not possible,” he says. I look at him in surprise. He’s not one to question the cards. He shuffles the deck again and places the cards in front of me.

“Again,” he orders.

“Asra…” 

“Again!” he insists. The coolness he held earlier is cracking. I catch glimpses of the worry he is holding to himself.

"That won’t work!” I shout. “There’s obviously a reason that I pulled those cards, especially _right after_ you!” I exhale forcefully, regathering myself. “It’s.. unbelievable. _Unfathomable_ . Doing another reading won’t annul any of that. You _know_ that.”

“But they can’t… they can’t be,” his voice cracks. “They mean….” He trails off, closing up again. He refuses to finish his thought.

“I _know_ what the _cards_ mean, but I can’t help you understand what they’re saying _in their context_ if you don’t tell me what you’re asking about.” When he hears that, he simply grabs the cards and sits back on his side of the bed, his back toward me. 

“Asra, for the love of god, just tell me what happened tonight!” I screech. I’ve had enough of this.

But he’s seized up. He won’t respond to me. 

I want to scream, to punch him, to _strangle_ him. But most importantly... 

I’m worried about him. 

And I love him. 

I want more than anything to pull him out of the darkness he is in. I slow my breathing and recenter myself. 

I know he can be like this. I know that it is one of his faults, and yet, it is my decision to stay. I have to accept all parts of him, and patiently work through the worst of them with him, like he does, and has done for me. Letting myself get angry won’t help either of us right now.

I walk to stand in front of him. I carefully confiscate the cards and place them on the bedside table. Then, I lean over to take his face into my hands.

“Asra,” I soothe. “Look at me.”

I slowly manage to pull his face toward me. He reluctantly meets my eyes. Fear. That’s all they hold now. He doesn’t even try to hide it from me anymore. That one look shatters my whole heart. I place my forehead to his, breathing deeply.

“Please. Whatever it is… Don’t go through this alone.” I feel his frantic breathing on my face. “Please.” I whisper now. “You’re scaring me...”

His breathing slows and his body becomes less rigid. I gently pull his face away and search his eyes. The fear there has abated a little bit, but there is something else now. Sadness. 

He seems so pathetic. When he gets like this, I’ll do whatever he wants. I am completely at his disposal, and he knows it. I lean in and gently kiss one eyelid, then the other. He melts into me. I lay his head on my shoulder and hold him, wrapping my arms around him and rubbing his back.

“If this is about the cards...” I break through the silence. “You know they aren’t written in stone.” Of course he knows. But a reminder can’t hurt. “Whatever it is… we’ll make different choices. It all depends on that.”

We sit there for a long moment, the only thing that is audible is our synchronized breathing and my hand running up and down his back. Suddenly, I feel him shaking. I kneel in surprise. Doing so gives me a good look at his face. Tears pool in his eyes, yet his face isn’t contorted in sadness. It’s anger.

I get back into the bed and pull him toward me. “Enough. Come here.” Reluctantly he moves to meet me. I make him lay on his side facing me. I move to tenderly kiss his eyelids again, then I roam all around his face, softly pressing my lips to every inch of it. I run my hands through his hair and massage his head gently. I’ll just let him go though whatever it is he needs to right now. But he’ll know I’m here for him. That’s all I can do.

I continue rubbing his head for a long time. The rhythmic motion makes me doze off. I feel his anger start to subside next to me. 

“I…” he starts. I jolt awake and meet his eyes. “I’m worried… about this whole plague thing.” He stops talking again.

“Is that all?” I ask him.

He’s silent for a long moment. “...Yes.”

He went through that whole range of emotions, made me consult the cards… made _me panic_ … for that? He’s still hiding something. 

“Of course you are. Everyone here is. You’d have to be immortal or an idiot not to be.” I can’t help but be a little snarky. I exhale to calm myself. I look at him attentively, waiting for more. He doesn’t elaborate.

I put my hand behind his head and lean toward him to offer a deep kiss. When I pull away, he looks me in the eyes. I can’t read anything from them. He’s completely closed off again. 

“Don’t wake me up to tell half-truths."

I’m giving up for the night. I get under the covers and turn away from him. I can still feel his mind racing next to me, but he’s made it clear that he won’t let me into those thoughts. All I can do is sleep. So I do. 


	7. The Revelation

**The Revelation**

Asra makes his way down the stairs. “I have to go to the market to get a few ingredients to restock. Are you coming?” 

I woke up earlier than he did and occupied myself by putting back all of the books from yesterday. His timing is impeccable, I just slid the last one into its place. “Of course,” I respond.

I figured this would be a good opportunity for him to open up about what he’s been hiding, but he acts as if nothing has happened. Annoyed to myself, I still don’t bother asking. At the Masquerade, he did promise me he’d tell. While he does keep his secrets, he doesn't lie. I’ll just have to be patient.

The marketplace is back to bustling. I breathe in all the smells as we walk through it. This is one of my favorite places to be. I love the excitement of it. Though, it has dimmed with the spread of disease. Everyone is more weary than before. Now, laughter doesn’t ring through the air as easily as it used to.

When we pass the bakery, my pace slows and I look at it longingly before purposefully snapping my head forward and away from it. Asra looks at me out of the corner of his eye, stopping. 

“We should get something to eat, don’t you think?” he instigates. He had to sense my temptation, and here he is, conceding to it. I love him. I swivel around and scurry into it. 

“Kealla! Asra!” the baker calls out to us when we step in. “You’re in luck, I just pulled bread out of the oven.”

He wraps and hands us two hot loaves. I bring mine up to my face and take a drawn-out sniff. Nothing beats this smell. I carefully open the top of the wrapping and tentatively break off a small piece. It burns my fingers so I pop it into my mouth, sucking in air to cool it off as I chew. Just the right amount of crunch and moisture. I close my eyes to properly savor every bite. The warmth in my mouth heats my whole body ; the rich pumpkin flavor caresses my taste buds. I continue chewing slowly, relishing the whole experience. Right as I swallow and am about to go for another piece, the sound of snapping pulls me back to the world. 

“Um, hello?” I jump and realize it was Asra that was snapping at me. “Are we interrupting something?” he asks. He’s leaning on the counter close to the baker. They both look at me, thoroughly entertained. 

Selasi opens his mouth to comment. “If Kealla looks at you like that loaf, you are damn lucky.”

“Don’t worry,” Asra responds. “I’ve only seen those eyes for your bread.” 

They both cackle at my expense. 

Back to reality, I laugh with them. “It’s simple. This bread always indulges me, unlike certain magicians,” I quip.

They start howling. Eventually, the baker calms, his eyes moist. “Kid, take another loaf for that, free of charge. Who am I to stand in the way of such a union.” He carefully selects one and wraps it, face red and grinning. 

When he holds it out to me, his sleeve rises and both Asra and I notice the bandages around his forearm. 

“What happened here?” Asra places a hand behind his elbow, blocking him from moving his arm back.

“Ah, this?” Selasi asks. “Like a dunce, I wasn’t paying attention to what I was doing and touched it to the inside of the oven. Nothing that I haven’t done before. It’ll heal.” He waves away our concerns.

“You’re right it will,” Asra takes the loaf out of his hands and gives it to me. He starts rolling up Selasi’s sleeves and unwrapping the bandages. The baker doesn’t say anything, knowing what he’ll do. 

It seems like a nasty burn, and it’s pretty sizable. Asra examines it before closing his eyes and taking deep breaths. He begins to sweep his hand back and forth over it. With every swipe, I see the burn fade and smooth. When it’s completely gone, Asra blows out air and opens his eyes. He’s looking a little more tired than before, but cheery.

After receiving profuse thanks, we say our goodbyes and step back into the market. 

We slip our bread into our bags and meander through the stalls, peering at the various products on display. Many people stop Asra, asking how he is. Some even ask for advice and appointments. He has made quite the name for himself after all these years. I am overjoyed to see him dazzle so. All of his hardwork… has finally paid off. Maybe he’ll be able to settle down to a more tranquil lifestyle. That seems to be where all of this is heading since he’s had the shop. I would be happy if it kept him beside me.

He starts conversing animatedly with one of the vendors. Though delightful to one another, they are locked in a negotiation. I let my eyes scan the opened sacks surrounding us on the floor, all overflowing with grain, spice and herbs. I’m feeling antsy as the haggling continues. I start to wander to other stalls. I won’t go too far. 

I walk up to the florist a few stands away. She is also one of my aunt’s closest friends. Her plants are flourishing today. They brighten the whole market. When she spots me, she quickly comes out of her stall to fawn over me, petting my hair and kissing me on both of my cheeks. I can’t help but chuckle at her exuberance. She always was a delight. I worked with her every once and a while in my adolescence when I was transitioning away from illusion. 

“Leave that magic shop and come back to work for me again!” she insists. “I still don’t know how you managed to sell so many flowers when you were here. I haven’t made that much profit in a long time.”

It’s true, though I’m not entirely sure how I did it either. I think being here on the day-to-day riled me up. Whoever chanced glancing into our booth in passing was sure to leave with at least a small purchase. I was a shark. 

“I couldn’t keep up that lifestyle anymore,” I joke. “Besides, as you know, I don’t have just one magician, but _two_ I need to support now.” She nods, knowingly, and uses that as a transition to ask if I’ve seen my aunt since the Masquerade. I inform her that we had tea together. She’s gleeful at the news.

“She won’t tell you this, because she wants you to live and enjoy your life... but she does miss you terribly. She would not stop talking about you at the party.” She chuckles. “If we all didn’t love you as much as we do, _someone_ would have gotten annoyed.” 

My heart swells. Moving here was excruciating. But now… it truly is my home. I am so surrounded by love here, and genuine companionship. I adore this city for the people it holds between it’s walls. All of them, sincere and shining. Each one, a precious gem I can admire. Some, I can even hold. They are all the reasons for Vesuvia’s brilliance. They are also the reason that I shine in turn. Lackluster so many years ago, they picked me up and polished me off. There is no other place I would rather be, and no other people I would rather live beside. 

A hooded figure tries to circumvent me before stumbling. I reach out to steady them. “Are you okay?” I ask. They clutch onto me and look up. 

Their hood falls to reveal red scleras surrounding irises wide in horror. Those crimson eyes fix mine. 

“Please,” the woman I am holding begs. “Please, help me.” She latches onto me with an iron grip, licking her chapped lips. 

I am in shock. I am incapable of moving or responding as panic overtakes my whole body. In an instant, I feel magic wash over me and the woman is abruptly repelled from me. I choke a little as someone grabs me by the collar and yanks me back. I am stopped firmly in their arms. I look and see it is Asra, looking down at the woman unremorsefully. He must have put a shield between us, making her fall to her hands and knees on the impact. 

He speaks to the air around us. “Someone get a doctor.”

I notice now that the market has gone completely silent. Everyone has backed away and left a large radius between themselves and us. All are transfixed on the scene before them. It doesn’t feel good to have their eyes on us anymore. 

A young boy from the grocer’s stand sprints away. The silence is only disturbed by the woman’s coughing on the ground. Between coughs, I hear her weep. 

Asra rapidly tends to me. He’s cleansing my arms in the middle of the street while the onlookers observe. Every once in a while, he’ll stop to check my aura. I am unresponsive to his touch. I can’t take my eyes off of the woman sobbing in front of me.

It feels like an eternity before the boy hurries back. Trailing him is a tall man with long strides. He’s dressed from the neck down in dark attire, and his face is covered by a beaked mask. He doesn’t acknowledge us as he goes to crouch before his new patient. 

Satisfied with his care for now, Asra grabs my hand and pulls me away. I look back as we hurry off. I can no longer see that woman. My view is blocked by the deep auburn locks of the man sitting before her. 


	8. Fallout

**Fallout**

We enter the shop and Asra steers me into the washroom. He fills the wash bucket and helps me undress. I feel as if I’m in a daze. I can’t get her desperate eyes out of my mind. 

He has me sit over the drain while he dips a carafe into the bucket. He raises it above my head and pours. I feel the warm water slide down my face and body and seep into the ground below. I am hugging my knees tightly to me while I am doused with water. My hair drips into my face, sticking to my skin.

“Do you think she has children?” I manage to murmur. 

A question, a plea. 

Tell me she doesn’t so they won’t miss her. 

Tell me she does so she won’t die alone.

He continues emptying the carafe over me. “That’s irrelevant right now.” 

No it isn’t. It’s everything. He hands me soap and I scrub my whole body. No matter how hard I rub, I can’t feel clean. But, it isn’t because I feel like she transferred her illness to me. No. It’s from a sickly feeling that drips from my heart and down into my gut. It is something that is coming from inside of me… an awakening to the horror that is surrounding us. 

I had been naive. I hadn’t fully grasped how terrible our world was outside of these walls. No amount of soap can wash this from me.

Water is splashed over me again. The soapsuds pool at my feet. I am carefully wrapped in a large towel and lead upstairs. 

At the sight of our cozy room, I am pulled slightly from my stupor. I open my drawer and silently dress myself. I can feel Asra’s eyes on my back, watching me attentively. Once I am done, he empties our bags onto the floor and begins to pull out his own clothing from the cabinet.

“What are you doing?” I ask.

“We’re leaving,” he responds, placing a stack of shirts into his satchel.

My brain attempts to piece the words together, searching for the meaning attached to their sounds. “What do you mean we’re leaving?”

“We’re leaving Vesuvia.”

I am fully roused to consciousness as understanding grips me with its teeth. “For how long?” I question.

“Indefinitely.”

As the word sinks in, the knots in my stomach tighten. “Asra... we can’t do that,” I breathe.

He looks at me sternly. “Yes we can. Get packed.” He moves my empty bag toward me with his foot, still occupying himself.

I don’t budge. “Asra… Our whole lives are here. We can’t just abandon it all-”

“Vesuvia has nothing left for us.” He cuts me off. “Not right now. Not when it’s backed us into a corner.” He continues packing but with more gusto.

… A corner?

“What are you talking about?” I inquire. It doesn’t make any sense.

He walks up to me and stands tall, peering at me obstinately. I can feel him try to make himself bigger than he is. Hoping to intimidate me, make me cede. “We’re backed into a corner. The plague has squeezed in on us from all sides. It’s time to go.”

I drop my gaze as I think. _That’s not it_. I know it. The plague has been around this whole time... this reaction is too sudden. What happened today was… devastating, but there’s no way that is the only thing that triggered all of this.

“I’m not leaving.” I raise my eyes to look at him square in the face. I feel the fire coming back to me. “That’s not a good enough reason to abandon everyone here.”

His eyes turn into slits as he glares at me. “Then you choose to die alongside them.”

“No, not die,” I scoff. “I can help. _We_ can help. We should have done something from the beginning…” I trail off as that woman flashes through my mind again. 

He lets out a harsh laugh. “What are you going to do? Illusion everyone better?” His tone is extremely derisive. His blatant ridicule stings like a needle straight to the heart. He turns away from me, taking my stunned silence as a victory. “Get ready,” he commands.

I feel the heat rise to my face. I cross my arms. “I am _not_ going.” I am resolute. He tsks at me angrily and haphazardly shoves things into my bag. Once he’s finished, he clasps it closed and stomps down the stairs carrying both his and mine. 

I march after him. “ _I am NOT going!”_ I yell. 

In the shop downstairs, I manage to get ahold of one of my bag straps and wrench it back. It makes him pivot. When he turns to me, his full fury is written all over his face. Instead of cower, I glare back, equally irate. 

“ _I_ _will not leave everyone I love here to die!_ ” The outrage rolls over my words. “How can you… how can you do that?” I ask. I am unnerved at his apathy.

“You’re the only thing that matters to me.” 

My breath catches in my throat. His vulnerability cuts through me like a blade. I am almost overcome by it. I search hard for a rebuttal; I have to find one before my will breaks. 

“That’s not true,” I insist. “What about Muriel?”

He’s taken aback at the mention of that name. “He’s away from all of this. He’s safe.” He studies me coolly. “Not like you’re one to care for him.”

We’re really fighting dirty today. 

“Wrong, and that’s completely impertinent.” I rebuke. “He’s _your_ friend. What if he needs you? You’re just going to hide away and leave him to himself, with no way of getting to you?” I steel myself. “How is he, anyway? Do you even go to see him anymore? Or have you judged that as too inconvenient?” I feel my words bite into him.

His rock walls start to break. “I-” he sputters. “I want to protect you.” I look at him defiantly. “I want to protect you and I can’t do that with the Count digging his claw into me.”

I let out a long exhale, bringing my eyes to the ground. “It finally comes to light, then.” This whole repressed mystery, it shows itself now. I wait for his elaboration on the matter.

Silence grips the whole room. I feel something slither up my leg. It’s Faust coming to check on me. I reach down and hold her in my hand, bringing her close to my heart. I feel her trembling. She hates when we fight. 

But it’s never been like this before. It’s particularly bitter today.

When he doesn’t offer an explanation, I push him into one. “I think it’s time that you tell me what’s going on.” It’s not a suggestion.

Asra drops both of the bags on the floor and nervously starts to run his hands through his hair, his eyes fixed on the ground. “Lucio… Has ‘invited’ me as an ‘honorary guest’ to the palace…” He hesitates. “He wants me to be another member of his team of selected individuals to find a cure for the plague.”

I feel a weight lift from me as the secret slips from his lips. 

“Asra…” I start. “That’s not necessarily a bad thing…”

His head snaps up and he looks at me incredulously. “Not a bad thing??” he exclaims. His nervousness from earlier is gone and is replaced by rage once more. “Him _threatening_ who I care about to _coerce_ me into working for him isn’t a bad thing?” he yells. 

Of course those are Lucio’s methods. I cover my eyes with my hand and slowly rub my face, processing the information. When I look at him again, his lip is trembling. “He has the power to take you away from me. He knows exactly how to hold me under his thumb.” He’s pleading with me now. “That’s why we need to leave.”

“Okay…” I say slowly, thinking. “His methods for management are… as cruel as expected. But… you can use this to your advantage. _Our_ advantage.” 

His expression is disbelieving. I plough on. “If you just join like he wants, we won’t be in any danger. Plus, you’ll be with the best of the best there! _You_ have the power to find a solution!” I speak animatedly, persuaded of his capabilities. “You are the most powerful magician in the city! You, out of anyone, will find the cure!” 

He would be able to stop it. I know it. He just needs to apply himself. He can stop all of this, _especially_ if he has access to the limitless resources that the palace can offer. 

He stares at me cynically. “Grow up,” he spits. He picks up his satchel to put it over his shoulder. “The world isn’t painted in rose.”

He tosses me mine. I let it land at my feet. There he goes again. Always looking down at me. Convinced that he’s right, and I’m just a dumb child that desperately needs him since they can’t help themself. I am boiling all over now, ready to blow my top. 

“Well, I’m going to do something about it, even if you aren’t.” My tone is obstinate, but my voice trembles as I suppress my anger. 

He scoffs as he stalks over to the door. “Sure you are.” He opens it and takes a few steps out into the street, turning to cross his arms expectantly. 

I step over my bag and march to the door. With all of this, I’ve forgotten I am still holding Faust. She continues trembling next to my heart. I hold my free hand to the door frame and look at him in the road. 

“Well, at least I’m willing to try!” I yell. “Unlike you, you damn coward!” I hear my seething words resonate off the quiet streets and walls.

“Is that all you’ve got? Keep going,” he taunts.

So cool, so haughty. A good-for-nothing know-it-all. 

“You heartless bastard!” I scream. “Abandoning everyone as soon as they become inconvenient. Constantly running away from your problems instead of facing them!” I feel the words rush out of me, burning my throat as they escape. “Willing to kick those you once loved into the dirt when they no longer serve you! Just like your parents did to you!” 

My terrible words resonate through the air around us.

His stony demeanor has crumbled. I managed to drive a knife straight into his cracks… creating a rift in the process. I can’t stop now. All the emotions I’ve held to myself to appease him push my wrath out of my mouth. “They do say that the apple never falls far from the tree.” My final, damning, remark.

In the silence that follows, the only thing that stirs is Faust. She slinks out of my grasp and onto the floor, making her way over to Asra and burying herself into his scarf. I see her peak out at me. 

Her movement brings him back from the blow. His expression becomes hard once more. “Are you coming or not?” he asks icily. 

When I glare back at him mutinously, he turns around and walks down the street. I follow him with my eyes until he disappears. 

Who knows how long I stand on the doorstep, immovable. 

Minutes or hours could have passed as I replay the fighting back in my head. 

And now he’s gone. 

The condemning reality sinks into my skin and wraps an iron fist around my heart. Those were the last things we said to each other, words writhing and dripping with hate.

I collapse on the doorstep, bawling. You’ve done it now, you stupid kid. 

_Disaster met through fighting and hatred…_

_Conflict, and disunion… destruction, and loss… unwelcome change and lack of control…_

It was all there. I had been warned. But I didn’t listen.

I didn’t listen.

And now I am terribly, irreversibly, and completely alone.


	9. Grief

**Grief**

I need to get out of the shop. Every inch of it is tainted with memories. They lurk in the corners, under the bed, and in the cupboards. They attack in silent moments, when I am overcome by a smell, a taste, or touch... They remind me of him. Of us. 

Of that fight.

Why do I stay here? I open the shop every single day… but for what? This had become _his_ , and he left it. They come for him, not I nor the things here. I can sell all of the items off of the shelf, and recommend books galore, but they come for _his_ magic, his mind. These magical trinkets can be acquired at any basic shop in town, while there is only one him. And he is gone. 

They do not return when they discover his absence. 

I mope. I cry. 

I wrap myself in the sheets to keep out the cold that pierces my lonely heart at night, unsure if I will be able to get myself up in the morning. I jolt awake frequently, expecting to see him home and sitting on the edge of the bed, the soft light of the lantern illuminating his beautiful features. But those dreams are naive tricks of an immature imagination. I only awaken to the suffocating stillness and complete darkness of the room surrounding me. 

I need to get out of this shop. I can’t get up anymore. I can’t go on here.

But I do. I stay. I wait. Hopeful that he will return. 

On one of the many long nights after I’ve closed shop, I settle into a chair and attempt to occupy my mind. Under the glow of the candlelight, my eyes scan the words on the pages. Try as I might, my mind wanders, incapable of comprehending the text before me. I stand up in frustration. 

If I cannot use my mind, I will use my body. I decide to clean. 

I address the overflowing drawers hidden behind the counter. One is full of miscellaneous items. _The-drawer-for-things-that-do-not-go-elsewhere._ I sit on my knees as I think of how best to proceed. I sift through various spools of thread, empty flasks, and shining stones. They clink together noisily as I move through the mass. 

I touch something soft underneath it all and continue to dig for it. Silky fabric is tightly wound into a ball. I pull it out and inspect it. It has some weight to it, which is surprising for tissue like this. I carefully loosen the fabric and something small and heavy falls out before me. I reach down and pick it up. 

It is a carved bear figurine. I feel a punch to the gut when I hold it. Another memory assaults me. Asra loved to give these as favors to people when they reminded him of them. He’s given many to shop regulars, all different animals of a vast kingdom. Still, he only acquired these on his travels. Since he’s been back for so long… or at least, _had been back before he decided to leave again_ … this must have been hidden for a while. I rack my brain, searching for who this could have been associated to.

There is a knock at the door and I jump, torn from my thoughts. My heart pounds as I leap to my feet and race to it. _Could it be..?_

I swing it open to look up into a beaked mask. It is attached to a tall man dressed fully in black. A plague doctor.

Of course it isn’t him. He would have just walked in. 

The doctor begins to remove his mask. “I didn’t expect to see you here,” he admits. Once it is off, I see that hidden behind it is the doctor from the Masquerade... that Doctor Devorak. Seeing him makes my mind flash through all the memories of that night and my stomach drops again. We look at each other in mutual recognition. 

“Can I help you?” I ask curtly. I don’t mean to be so stand-offish… but since it is after hours, I just don’t have the strength to hide the darkness I feel behind my merry mask. 

“I’m… I'm looking for the Master Magician of this house.” He looks… nervous? _You and everyone else._ “I’m a colleague of his,” he clarifies.

My interest peaks at this. _Colleague?_ “Asra is not here,” is my brief response. “He did not inform me that he was colleagues with a doctor, let alone, you,” my mouth runs away from me, saying my thoughts aloud. I don’t mean for it to come out as condescending. It’s not against him. I’m thoroughly vexed at Asra again, surprised he wouldn’t have said anything at the Masquerade when he heard the doctor and I speaking. But I shouldn’t be. He is the Great Secret Keeper, after all.

The doctor is slightly surprised at my abrasiveness, but a hint of a smile comes to the corners of his lips. “Well,” he starts. “We’ve only met once… but since he will be a part of our team, I am not quite sure of how else to reference him,” he explains. Ah. This must be the palace plague team, then. _Did they meet at that dinner?_ “When will he be back?” He asks me, anxious once more. “I don’t mean to… I don’t mean to cause alarm but it is absolutely essential that he is present soon or…” he stops, locking eyes with me. I see his Adam's apple bob as he swallows hard. 

I sigh. “Thank you for your concern, Doctor, but he has gone and will not return.” I say this with indifference. I see his eyes go wide. “You can inform your superiors that he has cut all ties in Vesuvia and left. We have no way of contacting him.” I bid him goodnight and go to close the door when he stops it with his hand.

“That’s-” he starts. “That’s not good enough.” 

I look at his nervous face. “Tell me about it.” He seems to taste the irony behind my words which makes him… _smile?_ This man is strange. “But there’s really nothing else I can do.” The doctor is still preventing me from closing the door. He is obviously not finished. His smile falters and I see his eyes race as he thinks. He opens his mouth, as if to speak, but closes it again. These tortured souls and their secrets. 

I tsk, not even attempting to hide my irritation. “If you are stopping yourself from speaking your mind on my behalf, doctor, please do not. I am left with a bad taste in my mouth from the last person who did that to me.” He raises both of his eyebrows at my fiery words. Unfazed, I plough on. “If it’s a warning for my well being, it is most likely something I am already aware of.” 

Why am I telling him these things? I do not know this man.

I notice a spark of …. _astonishment?_ …. _amusement?_ come to his eyes. 

“You’re aware of the Count’s… methods of engagement of certain… hesitant team members?” he inquires.

I shrug. “Let him throw me in jail, for all I care. It won’t be worse than sitting around here all day.” He gapes slightly at my nonchalance, but his eyes are bright. Why is he looking so amused? He’s odd. Or I guess... I’m the odd one, disclosing all of these things to a perfect stranger.

“As palace messenger, I would recommend mentioning that using me, or anyone else, as leverage over the magician won’t help,” I inform. “I would have been the last attachment he had in Vesuvia, and he severed that.” The words continue to escape from me, increasingly provocative. “They can attempt to verify it themselves, though I’ll just give them a lot of headache and no results.”

Why can I not stop myself? I do not know what this man is capable of, or where his loyalties lie. I shouldn’t be so insolent. Still, I am too apathetic to feel anything right now, let alone, fear. Asra would have blamed my recklessness on my volatile emotions. 

I realize my mind wanders back to him and forcefully push him out.

The doctor can no longer repress the smile that spreads across his lips. “I will pass on the message, then.” He’s laughing at me, I can see it in his eyes. I start to furrow my brow, feeling sour. He speaks again, gazing at my hand. “A bear?” He questions.

I look down. I am still clutching the figurine. In my haste to reach the door, I held onto it and forgot about it. “I’ve always liked bears,” he remarks, changing the subject. He is making surprisingly friendly conversation after all of my blatant affronts. “Big and scary, but timid. They avoid confrontation whenever they can, even though they could easily bite a head off.”

Big and scary… but timid… 

Realization washes over me. I know who this is for.

I look at the doctor, puzzled. He helped me solve it without knowing what I was looking for, but… why is he talking to me about this? 

“Anyway,” he continues. “I apologize for interrupting your night. I will inform the palace of the unfortunate news.” He bows and turns to walk away. As he leaves, I realize I want him to stay. I haven’t spoken to anyone like that in… forever. My words were so raw and unfiltered… yet he simply listened, unperturbed. 

Entertained.

“Doctor Devorak.” I call out. He’s only made it a few paces away and can hear me perfectly well. He turns, giving me his full attention. “I..” I hesitate. “I don’t have much to offer to the effort… to this fight against the plague,” I announce. “I have no medical experience… but I want to help.” 

Yes. This is why I stayed. What am I doing in this shop, grieving the loss of a person who is perfectly healthy and chose to walk away? A person selfish enough to save their own hide instead of the people around them. There are real people here, breathing their last breaths, that deserve my energy instead. I need to help them.

“Please, if there is anything I can do…” my tone comes out more emotional than I expect. Sincerity drips off of my words. “... if there is anything I can offer, will you please let me know?” 

He studies me for a long moment. I am suddenly terrified of rejection. Of course he’ll say no. What would he want with someone untrained and inexperienced? Someone so young and naive. I feel my legs tremble. I am sickened at the show of vulnerability I just assailed him with. I want this badly, but why? Why am I putting my whole soul on the line?

He responds slowly. “Willing hands are hard to come by…” he trails off, thinking for a moment before speaking again. “I think we should take all the help we can get.” 

A sigh of relief escapes my mouth before I can stop it. As it slips out, a laugh comes to his eyes again. “I understand if I can’t help with any of the medical aspects, Doctor.” I correct my childlike eagerness from before. “But I can read and write. I could be an assistant of sorts.” _To you,_ I hope. 

“Nonsense, that won’t be necessary. The best doctors today were all untrained at some point, including yours truly.” He winks at me, grinning jauntily. That familiar expression warms my heart just like it did the first night I saw it. “How about this...” I hold my breath in anticipation. “Why don’t I take you on as an apprentice in my clinic? I will form you in everything you need to know.” My heart swells. I can’t contain the happiness in it and it spreads to my face.

“That would be very kind of you, Doctor. Thank you.” I bow to him, over-eager to express my gratitude.

“There’s that smile from that Masquerade,” he says. I look at him in surprise. His tone is unusually gentle. “I was wondering where it had gone.” I touch my face pensively. _I was wondering too._ “How soon can you start?” he questions, suddenly serious. 

I look at him purposefully. “ _When_ _can_ I start?” I ask him.

He grins again. “How about… tomorrow afternoon?” I nod. He pulls out a small leather book and begins to write on a piece of paper. Once he is finished, he rips it out, handing it to me. “That is the address of the clinic. Be there at three.” I nod. He removes a glove and holds out his hand to me. “You’ll have to forgive me. Your name was on your paperwork that night, but I do not remember it. I saw many patients.”

I reach out and grasp his hand in mine. He has a firm but inviting grip. “Kealla Withernshot.” I reply. “It will be an honor to learn from you, Doctor Devorak.” 

“Kealla…” he drawls, a grin sliding to his lips. “You’ll have to know, I do not run my clinic as... conventionally... as most,” he prefaces. “We will be working with the same tools and be seeing the same patients, exposing ourselves to the same hardships… All this to say, I hate any distinction of rank or title.” His eyes lock mine, that debonair smile on his lips. “When it is just the two of us, I insist that you call me Julian.”

My cheeks begin to flush. He didn’t mean anything by that. I shouldn’t feel as flustered as I do under his gaze. He’s just extremely friendly... a kind man with a heart open to the world. It’s… refreshing. 

He wishes me a good night and places both his mask and his glove back on. I watch him walk down the street, the sounds of his heeled steps echoing off the cobblestones. 

I slide back into the shop and close the door behind me. My heart still aches, but I don’t have to carry that burden in isolation anymore. It doesn’t make me feel as lonely, having a purpose. I will apply my pain to something useful.

_I am getting out of this shop._

I caress the bear figurine in my hand and hold it up, inspecting it in the candlelight.

I’ll just have to take care of some unfinished business first. 


	10. Endings

**Endings**

It is early morning. I am holding onto the doorknob of the shop, letting my eyes rove over it one last time before I leave. I am relieved to get out, but I can’t help feeling sorrowful. I try to keep all of the details of this place in my mind’s eye, so even when I am gone, I can remember how it was. How it felt.

I close and lock the door, setting the protective enchantments upon it. After they are in place, I rest my head against the wood for a moment to say goodbye. I quickly turn and walk away when I feel the tears bubble up in my eyes. No point getting sentimental.

I walk all the way to the edge of the forest and stop, centering myself. It’s going to be difficult finding a place that is purposefully hidden. I dig through my bag and pull out the pendulum that Asra bought for me on one of his travels. I feel a pang of sadness as I gaze at it. It’s a beautiful and powerful crystal. He said he had an inkling I would be connected to it ; that it would allow me to channel answers from higher powers. He was right, like he usually is... I’ve used it to guide me through many decisions. I’ve never used it to find something, or someone, though. This will be the ultimate test. 

I hold it out in front of me and make my intentions clear to the crystal and myself. I have to find that hut. That is where I will find the man. 

I ask if I should walk forward. It swings, indicating a yes. I move deliberately, asking every few paces. When it finally tells me that forward is no longer the direction to travel, I ask if I should move left. 

No.

Then right? 

Yes.

I am fully concentrated on the task before me. I have never felt so connected to divine intuition. I am putting my total and unwavering faith into it. 

My movement through the undergrowth is measured. At this point, I feel like I have been walking for hours. Sweat breaks on my brow as anxiety starts to gnaw at my gut. I start to wonder if I am wandering in circles, completely lost in the vast expanse of the forest, all on some misguided whim. 

Forward?

No.

Left?

Yes.

I round a large tree and reach a small clearing. In the middle of it, the hut. I laugh in glee. I can’t contain how proud I am of this accomplishment. I did it. I can do these things by myself. Constantly awed by Asra, I almost forgot my own power.

I put the pendulum away and walk up to the door. I reach up to knock, then hesitate. I was so occupied with finding my way that I didn’t even think over what I was going to say. I haven’t seen him in years, and we were never close in the first place. This will be… uncomfortable to say the least. I have to make a plan.

“What are you doing here?” a deep voice growls behind me. I spin around and back into the door in surprise. Muriel looms before me, glaring. Over his shoulder he holds some sort of large game. At his feet, a wolf peers at me curiously. 

I didn’t even hear him approach. Talk about adapting to your environment. He must walk through the forest like a deer, completely undetectable when he wants to be, regardless of his imposing size. 

No time to plan, then. I’ll have to improvise.

“I-I-I..” I stutter, unable to form words. It seems to be going well so far. 

He continues to glare down at me before reaching out and turning the doorknob, opening the door behind me. I gape at him agitatedly. After a moment of awkward and very tense eye contact, I understand that I am in his way. I shuffle to the side and let him pass. 

The wolf comes up to sniff me once Muriel disappears into the hut. I am rooted to the spot, afraid that if I move it will become hostile. After thoroughly inspecting me, it looks into my eyes before following Muriel through the door. 

I exhale. This… could go better. But it wasn’t unexpected. Except for the wolf, of course. I definitely did not anticipate that. 

Still, I am unnerved at how clearly unwanted I am here. I start to breathe, regathering my courage, when the wolf comes back to the door to gaze at me. It cocks its head before turning around and giving me a backwards glance. _Is it telling me to come inside?_

I take a timid step forward. Satisfied, it turns away from me and moves deeper into the hut. I tentatively follow and close the door. I am leaning up against it, trying to stay as close to the edge of the house as possible. 

Muriel is busying himself. He doesn’t acknowledge my entrance. 

“Um.” I say hesitantly. “I think your… wolf wanted me to come inside…”

He doesn’t look up. The game is in the kitchen and he moves to kneel in front of the fireplace, starting it. I watch him do so in silence. 

“Inanna,” he says suddenly. “Her name is Inanna. And she’s her own _._ ”

Inanna raises her head from the pile of furs she is lying on to look at me expectantly.

“Sorry, Inanna” I mumble. She lays back down after my apology.

The fire burns brightly now. Muriel removes his jacket and slumps into a chair before it. “You didn’t answer,” he growls again, not making eye contact with me. “Why are you here?” 

I am still stuck to the door, but I do my best to relax. It’s not my fear of Muriel that is putting me on edge, it’s how awkward I always feel around him. I know he never really liked me, but that couldn’t be helped. The fact of the matter is... I took up a lot of Asra’s time. Even if he wouldn’t have wanted to blame me for it, I pretty much forced myself into Asra’s life, causing them to become distant as more of his time was allotted to me. If I were in his shoes, I wouldn’t be very happy to see me either. Especially if Asra hadn’t been to see him when he had returned. Looks like he was too busy playing house at the shop.

I sigh, trying to abate the nerves in my stomach. “I wanted to drop something off for you.” I dig into my bag and locate the figurine. I clutch it in my hand and steel myself before pushing off of the door and padding over. I stand in front of him, but he fixes the fireplace with his eyes. Shakily, I balance the figurine on my palm before him.

“It’s from Asra,” I say.

At the mention of his name, Muriel’s expression softens. He looks down at it. I can see affection come to his eyes. It’s almost like he forgets I am here. When he remembers my presence, his expression hardens. 

“Why are you the one bringing this to me?” he asks.

“Because…” I falter. “Because Asra left.” My voice catches as I utter those last words. Muriel meets my eyes with his own in surprise. I can feel tears start to pool in my lower lids under his intense stare. 

Looks like we were both left behind. 

“Muriel...” I say wetly. “...I’m sorry.”

I know how it feels, now. Forgive me.

Just as I fear the tears will overflow, Inanna pads up to me, pushing her snout into my legs. Before I have time to react, she shoves her head into the backs of my knees, causing me to fall over her and onto the floor. Stunned, the tears dissipate. My face still becomes wet as a large tongue laps up from my chin to my forehead. A laugh jumps out of me in surprise. Inanna looks at me soothingly, and I reach my hands out to run them through her soft fur. I grip onto it and place my forehead to hers. 

“Thank you,” I whisper.

I hear Muriel rise from the chair. He crouches, picking up the bear. I must have dropped it when I fell. Once it is in his grasp, he moves to a shelf, gently placing it upon it. He stands motionless, contemplating it for a while. I watch him as he does so, continuing to pet Inanna. 

“Do you know how to get back to the city?” He questions, his back facing me.

“...No,” I realize. I was so focused on where I was getting to, I didn’t think about how I would get back. It would be impossible to retrace my steps now. 

He walks over to throw on his coat before heading to the door. He stops and looks back at me, waiting. I pull myself to my feet, giving Inanna a few last pats on the head. The three of us step out of the hut. 

Muriel and I walk side by side in silence. I can hear Inanna tear through the plants beside us, running back and forth excitedly. Every once and a while she pops her head out to check on us, before returning to her exploration of the leafy undergrowth. 

The quiet surrounding Muriel and I doesn’t feel as uneasy as before. We’ve come to an understanding. That’s really the best I could have hoped for with this expedition. 

We reach the edge of the forest in a surprisingly short amount of time. I guess that’s what happens when you know where you’re going. Before stepping out from under the canopy, I turn to look at Muriel again. Instead of avoiding my eyes, he meets them. Inanna comes to stand beside him. 

I stick my hand out to him. He slowly reaches out to take it, grasping it gently in his large grip. 

We’re good.

That’s all we both need to know.

I turn away, relieved. My steps feel lighter as I navigate through the city.


	11. Beginnings

**Beginnings**

I am panting in front of the clinic doors. I ran here. I made the mistake of dropping by my aunt’s place to get rid of my things from the other shop first. It took her an instant to gather that something was wrong, and a simple “are you okay?” to make me break down again. I explained everything to her through laborious breath. The lucky thing is that she isn’t going to make me go back there.

By the time I finished blubbering and had managed to calm down, I had to sprint to the clinic to get here on time. What a horrible impression I would have made had I been late on my first day. I bend over, trying to catch my breath before entering the clinic. It’s 3pm. I walk in.

I look around and see an empty waiting room. Empty, except for the hound laying on its side on the floor. It looks at me dolefully without moving its head. Then, it huffs. 

From a door to the side exits the Doctor. Then, a flurry of black is upon me as a caw pierces the air. I feel something land on my head and cry out in surprise. “Malak, calm down!” the doctor exclaims. I gaze upwards as a raven’s head peers down at me over my brow. It squawks in a greeting, then flutters over to settle back on its master’s shoulders. I’m slightly perturbed to see the latter isn’t wearing his plague uniform. I must have imprinted my last memory of him in my mind. Today, he wears a white dress shirt that is opened at the top. I snap my eyes up to his to forcibly avoid ogling at his exposed chest. I see the bags under his eyes when I look at them. 

“Good afternoon Kealla, ” he grins at me. “Right on time.” He looks at my face for a moment. “Wait, did you run here?” I guess it’s that obvious, then.

“Looks like I met Malak, but who’s this?” I ask, ignoring his question. I purposefully try to soften my heavy breathing. I indicate the dog on the floor. I’m not going to make the same mistake as I did with Muriel by assuming the nature of their relationship.

“This sweet girl?” he asks, crouching to pet her. “This is my assistant, Brundle.” I can see the admiration in his eyes as he pats her round belly. She doesn’t stir and peers at him fondly. Once they are finished gazing lovingly at each other, he looks to me. “Are you ready?”

I nod and he rises to his feet. “Alright, then. I have a few house calls to make but I’ll start you on rudimentary work before I go.” He approaches the wall of books to the side. It is overflowing with tomes, all in a sorry state : beaten up, ripped... covers missing or crumpled. “Before we can have you work with plague patients, you’ll have to know how the body works, and how to apply some basic first aid and treatments.” He scans the selection of books before him and pulls out a few, stacking them in my outstretched arms. “Peruse through these to familiarize yourself. When I get back we’ll discuss.” He stops removing books from the shelf and peers at me cockily over the pile. “You said you could read, but these texts can be particularly complex. Think you can handle it?” 

I snort, unfazed. “Have you ever tried to read a textbook on the arcane? Trust me, this will be a walk in the park.” 

He steps into his office and closes the door as I settle into a wooden chair in the waiting room, placing my stack on the low table beside me. I pick the first book off of the top and flip it open. The inside is just as mistreated as the outside : dog-ears on almost every page, indecipherable scribblings crowding the margins… These poor books have been through too much. 

Before I can begin reading, the office door swings open and he steps out, fully dressed in his uniform once more. He holds his mask under his arm. 

“Well, I’ll be off.” He heads to the front door. “If someone comes in, tell them I am out and that they can make an appointment if necessary.”

“Why don’t you have your assistant do that?” I ask, peering over the volume in my hand. 

A smirk creeps to his lips. “Well, she’s very close to retirement you see. I don’t want her overexerting herself.” 

I laugh. “Alright Doc- I mean Julian.” I feel flustered addressing him so informally, but he seems pleased at my catch. 

He steps through the door and Malak zooms out behind him. Now that they are gone, I am left with only the stillness of the room, broken by the breathing of Brundle.

These medical texts are just as complicated as books on the occult, if not more so since I am unfamiliar with all of the terminology. I was too overconfident. In the worst case scenario he’s going to kick me out because I am dumb. In the best case, he’ll laugh at me. 

I may be stupid, but I am also extremely stubborn. I continue pouring over the books as the hours pass. Slowly, the light of the day dies and I have to locate a lantern to continue reading. The chair is digging into my back so I move to the floor, spreading the books around me. When one is too frustrating, I jump to the next one. My methodology seems to be working : I can feel myself understanding the more I familiarize myself with the material. 

I can do this, and I will. 

***

I hear the front door open and close and I jump into a sitting position. The book that was… apparently on my face... falls to the ground next to me with a crash. All of my sudden movement makes Brundle jump as well. She looks at me reproachfully. We must have both been slumbering on the floor. It looks like she was using me as a pillow.

I turn my head and lock eyes with Julian. I see them laugh at me. “Sorry to interrupt your nap,” he says.

“Me? Nap? I could never. Especially not with…” I pick up the book on the floor next to me, reading the cover. “...Montesseau’s _Human Anatomy and Health._ ”

He removes his gloves and unbuttons his coat, placing his gear to the side. “I am aware of how riveting that one is” he responds. He walks over to crouch in front of me, deeply observing my face. He holds out a hand and places it to my cheek. In response, I feel heat come to both of them. “The marks on your face tell a different story, though.” He quickly stands up and bustles away, having had his fun with me. 

I laugh the nerves off. “You caught me.” I gather the books and make my way to the shelf, sliding them back into place. In the meantime, Julian brings a bucket over with a solution and begins sanitizing his gear. I glimpse at him intermittently. He’s completely zeroed in on the task before him, his brow furrowed in an endearing manner. Noticing myself eyeing him, I snap my eyes back forward and refuse to look again. Once he is finished, I hear him set everything out to dry. 

“Would you like some coffee?” he asks me. I finished arranging the books long ago and have been scanning the titles on the spines (whenever they still exist) to pass the time. I feel him step up beside me. I steel myself and turn to him, attempting to put on an air of nonchalance. 

“I wouldn’t mind some tea, if you have it.” 

He leads me through a door in the back of the waiting room. It looks like these are his living quarters. To my right I see a room with a bed. Where I stand has a long table before me, with a kitchenette behind it. It is surprisingly tidy. Having looked at the state of those books, I never would have thought that possible. 

“It’s a good thing I straightened up before you came.” He puts the kettle on to boil. “I’m sorry to say I only have chamomile tea. I am not much of a tea drinker, but have heard that this can help ease sleep.” He pulls out a jar full of tea leaves and spoons some into two mugs. “Haven’t really seen its effects yet.” 

I sit down at the table, facing him. Once the water is boiled, he pours it into the cups and walks over, placing one in front of me and settling into the chair opposite. “Now tell me what you learned and ask any questions you may have.” 

I pull out the parchment I had been scribbling on earlier and recap everything. He corrects me on a few misconceptions and answers my slew of questions. I don’t see the time pass as we discuss, but I can feel my eyes getting heavier. Only a sip of tea rests at the bottom of my cup now, and it has gone completely cold. Just as I begin to make another comment, a juicy yawn escapes from me, bringing tears to my eyes. I cover my mouth quickly, trying to stifle it.

“It looks like it’s time we call it a night.” His eyes are as warm as always. He stands. “Come now, let’s get you home.” 

I insist that I can walk myself back but he doesn’t want to hear it, claiming that if anything were to happen to an apprentice of his after keeping them too late, that would be on him. He slips on his coat and we step out.

The night is considerably chillier now and I shiver, hugging myself as we walk. He notices and puts an arm around me, pulling me to his side and running his hands up and down my arms. Heat floods my face and I look up at him. When he notices my uneasiness, he quickly releases me and continues on. I am definitely warmer now. 

He breaks through the uneasy silence. “You know, I never got to thank you for sending me that cake that night.” He looks at me over his shoulder and grins. “It definitely made it a little less dull.”

It takes my brain a second to understand that he’s referencing the night at the Masquerade. “So, you finally admit it? You were jealous you didn’t get to party with the rest of us?”

“I will admit I have had more eventful nights… but at least you were one of the highlights of it.” I am still warm from earlier but a new wave of heat washes over me. How can he say things like that so casually? “The only thing that would have made it better is if that fig cake was hand delivered by you. Though the servant you picked was cute, we didn’t have the same connection.”

I stop before my aunt’s. Unsure of how to respond, I don’t. “This is me.” I indicate the door behind me.

“Oh?” he examines it. “You’re not heading to the other shop?”

My breath catches as I am reminded of its existence. I was able to forget about it for the first time today… simultaneously forgetting about the life it once held between its walls. 

“No,” I say. I don’t develop on the matter and he doesn’t pry. 

He turns to go, glancing at me over his shoulder. “See you at 9 tomorrow?” 

I agree, thank him for the day, and step through the back door into our main living spaces. I take care to close the door softly behind me, and tiptoe around. I see my aunt is sleeping down here tonight. She must have done so to leave me the bed. I smile, my heart warmed in more ways than one. I turn to creep upstairs and slip into the sheets, satisfied with a productive day.


	12. Theory

**Th** **eory**

Time flies as I work with Julian, though our days have become longer. They start well before sunrise and end deep into the darkness of the night. I work with him six days a week now. He’s one of the few people I still see, besides the patients that come to the clinic, the glimpses I catch of my aunt, and of course, Miss Brundle. I see her the most of anyone, both of us locked in the office for long hours. I can’t help but feel that my presence perturbs her, though. Her disapproving looks whenever I disturb her naps cut right through me.

I’ve made remarkable progress and feel far more at ease. I’ve been able to observe a few patient examinations at the clinic, but the ones that come in are only those that are affected by simple ailments : small colds, ear infections, wounds that need stitching and disinfection... Plague victims are on a strict “stay at home” order, and Julian only sees them on his house calls. 

With my improved knowledge, Julian has made me take over most of the letter correspondences. Many patients write to him, asking how best to soothe their suffering family members, especially those affected with the disease. Having discussed the steps with him on a regular basis, he trusted in my ability to guide them. He read through the first few letters before they were sent out, and once they were judged to be adequate, he made it one of my main responsibilities. Most of the cases that are presented to me mirror the ones before, and many of my responses are written verbatim. In the instances when I am unfamiliar with something, I consult him and he helps. 

I feel like my head is heavier with all of the new information inside of it. As exhausted as I am when I collapse into bed at night, I cannot help but feel content. Dire as everything has become in the city surrounding us, I feel like I am playing an active part in the combat against this curse. I am grateful that he took a chance on me. Knowing that I am doing something… _anything_ … has been exactly what I’ve needed. 

Seeing that my help eases the heavy burden on such a remarkable man has been almost as fulfilling, if not even more so than my direct work with the patients. While something relatively minor, I am glad to know that he no longer has to busy himself with writing those letters after back-to-back consultations.

I still have not had the chance to apply my new knowledge in practice. I am starting to feel antsy but I don’t want to rush into it, afraid that I’ll make a mistake. I continue to intently observe every single one of Julian’s movements as he consults the patients. I think he can tell that I am itching to do more, though.

As I am reading one of the numerous medical tomes one evening, he comes out of his office and peers down at me. Malak sits on his shoulder and does the same, shifting his feet and ruffling his feathers. I look up at Julian quizzically, sensing he wants something.

“Say… Do you think you would be ready to see a patient, now?” 

As the question hits my ears, I feel anxiety rush over me. “N-no!” I exclaim, quickly standing up and gathering the book before me. This makes Malak bolt off of his shoulder and flap frantically around the room, squalling. He’s such a nervous bird. My sudden, panicked movement must have terrified him. I try to shush him while I scurry toward the bookshelf and away from Julian. I don’t think it’s helping, though. I’m far too jittery myself.

As much as I may want to see an actual patient… it is far too daunting. Of course it has to happen one of these days, but not yet. I still have too much to learn. I quickly slide the book back onto the shelf and take a deep breath, calming myself. “I’m sorry. I just don’t think I am, yet.”

“Interesting.” He pauses, holding his hand to his chin while he ponders. “Well, I think you are.”

I am frozen in place. His confidence rattles me straight to my core. It doesn’t do anything to abate my nerves, though. Quite the contrary, I feel my heart begin to race. I shuffle over to him and grab onto his sleeve, imploring with him. “That’s not a good idea!” I feel my voice rise. “I haven’t had a chance to act out any of the theory yet! I need more time!”

A jaunty grin comes to his face. I don’t like where this is going.

“Well, the best and only way to learn how to practice, is in practice!” He brings a folded knife out of his pocket, flipping it open and lowering it to his palm. He cries out as he slices it open. Blood spills from the gash.

_Did he just..?_

I clamp my hand on the cut, trying to stopper the bleeding. “Did you just bring a dagger to your own hand??” I scream. “For.. for… for the sake of learning??” I am flabbergasted.

The blood is leaking between my fingers now. He winces slightly, then grins between clenched teeth. “Best apply your knowledge on stitching.”

I gape at him incredulously before observing the red mess oozing between our hands. “I’m afraid I have my own methods for things like this.” 

I take a few deep breaths and pour my magic into his palm. I feel the wound with it, and visualize how deep the cut is. He wasn’t kidding around, he definitely wanted me to use those stitches. I slowly run my finger across the cut, attaching blood vessels and sealing layers of skin as I go. I reach the end of the cut and close it, nice and tidy. I open my eyes and look into his surprised face. A smirk jumps to it after he contemplates me for a moment.

“I didn’t know you partook in that sort of witchery. That’s cheating.” 

I smile as I leave him to get something to clean up. “You _did_ find me in a magic shop.” I bring a rag and warm water over to him and start to gently wash the blood from his palm after washing mine. “Would you have preferred I stitch it and let your hand heal for weeks? You’re a doctor, Julian. Both of them need to be in perfect working order."

His smirk deepens at being scolded. “Well, I suppose it is always better to work smarter and not harder.” 

We fall into silence for a moment, the only sound are the drops of water falling from the cloth and into the basin below. “I’m sorry it was all for nothing," I tell him softly. 

“Ah, not for nothing. I got to learn a new secret about my apprentice” he purses his lips at me, guileful. “And moments like that, when you could bleed out all over the floor… kind of makes you feel alive, doesn’t it?”

“No,” I clip. The water is tainted red as I continue to clean. A smile begs to come to my lips but I hold it down. “I’m surprised…” I trail off. “I didn’t realize how much of a masochist you are”, I glance up at him furtively.

He leans over to me, completely ignoring the distance between us. He smiles gallantly “Oh darling, the things you’ll learn about me.” 

I’ve finished washing the blood and move away to retrieve the gauze in the cabinet. “How about I wrap it properly? That way you can see that I know how to administer a bandage in case of emergency.”

“That would be good.”

I grab the cloth and make my way back to him. I gently unravel the roll and wrap it around his hand, before cutting and tucking the gauze. Nice and snug, but not too tight. Once I’m finished, I release his hand from both of mine. I only realize then how warm I felt holding it. 

“Excellent work.” I beam at the compliment. “You’ve officially treated your first patient.”

He flashes a wily grin. He leans over to me again, the distance between us smaller than before. “Looks like we’ll need to celebrate.” 

My face falls and I swallow, sensing the mischief behind his eyes.

****

He leads me to the South End, insisting that he has “just the place.” I’ve never been here in the evening. I am a little uneasy since I’ve heard a lot of rumors. But rumors are usually hogwash, so I try to stop my nerves from getting the best of me. Besides, Julian wouldn’t lead me somewhere dangerous… would he?

After walking through the dark streets, we stop before a boisterous establishment. A tavern called the Rowdy Raven. I turn to him and spot him eyeing me, hoping to catch my first impressions on my face. Just as we arrive, a man stumbles out and vomits all over the street. 

“I- I’m not much of a drinker,” I state, trying to deter him from bringing us inside. 

“Oh?” His large grin doesn’t falter. “Well, there’s a first time for everything.”

When I respond with a disapproving look he simply laughs, placing a hand on my opposite shoulder and squeezing it. “I’m joking. I can do the drinking for the both of us. You could always get some food… though I don’t recommend it.”

He leads us over and opens the door, his hand still resting gently on my shoulder. Whenever he touches me so casually… I feel my blood pressure go through the roof. I don’t want him to stop, though. I make an effort to keep my face blank so I don’t ward him off. He releases me once we step inside. 

Many come up to him, chatting with him mirthfully, slapping him on his back or shaking his hand. A lot thank him for the help he’s given them on an injury or an illness. It’s sweet to see. 

While he is assailed by the burly patrons, I have time to look around. The candlelight gives the whole place a surprisingly charming glow, even though there seems to be a layer of grime on everything. 

We finally manage to inch our way over to the bar. The barkeep lights up when he spots Julian and reaches out, grabbing him jovially over the counter. He then spots me beside him. 

“Who’s this?” he asks. “A date?”

Before I have time to react, Julian jumps in. “You know I wouldn’t bring a date here. This is my apprentice, Kealla.” I nod and smile timidly. 

“Too bad for you, Julian. Kealla’s cute. Better for all of us, though.” A group of three men sitting at the bar start cackling at the barman’s words. Their laughter grows as my face becomes red. Embarrassed, I can’t manage to order a drink and have Julian do the honors. I thoroughly regret it. I saw how the whole thing was prepared and I… can’t imagine it’s remotely good.

We make our way to a booth and slide in, sitting opposite from one another. 

“Well, then,” he holds out his tankard to me. “To your first successful treatment, and to a long and prosperous career.” We clink our glasses together and I bring mine up to my lips, taking a sip. I almost spit it out immediately. I manage to stop myself, but not without contorting my face into a ghastly expression. Beyond better judgement, I swallow. It burns from my throat all the way down to my stomach. 

When I open my eyes again, they’re watering. I peer at Julian through the haze and he starts howling. “What in god’s-name was that??” I ask. 

“What did it taste like?”

“Well, salty… and extremely bitter.”

“There you have it. They call them Salty Bitters for a reason.” He continues laughing, obviously pleased with what he made me submit to. “I’ll get you something more to your liking.” He stops a boy busing the tables around us. Before he can say anything, I interrupt.

“I’m not sure if I should trust you to order my drink again.”

He stops to laugh again. “I won’t disappoint you this time, I promise.” He leans over the table, holding out a hand to block his mouth from view of the waiter. “I just needed an excuse to order two of these for me right off of the bat.” 

I purse my lips and raise my eyebrows at him, but I allow him to order away. In a couple of moments, a drink in a slender glass is set before me. I timidly bring it up to my lips and take a sip. It tastes… sweet. When I lock eyes with him again, his light up. “Elderflower cordial,” he explains.

“It’s not bad,” I respond. “But I want you to know, I don’t only like fruity drinks.”

“Hm. I’m not sure if I quite believe you. You’ll have to prove that to me tonight.” 

Our banter continues for a while. It’s so easy to talk to him. I feel my words flow from me freely. And that was even before I felt a buzz from the booze. Our conversation is only interrupted when two guys get into a fight and are kicked out. When it calms once more, Julian turns to me and changes the subject to less light-hearted matters.

“I have to ask you... Why did you want to work against the plague?” 

I ponder, deciding on how best to respond. “Well…” I hesitate for another moment. “I wanted to help.”

He's obviously unsatisfied with my answer. “There’s gotta be more than that. Nobody just sticks their hand in the fire, hoping to smother the coals, if they have other ways of preventing the house from burning down.”

He’s too smart. I sigh in resignation. “I’ll tell you, then.” I prepare myself to relive one of the worst days of my life. Before the unpleasant memories drown me, I plunge in. “I was… in the marketplace one day. It was a beautiful day outside and I was feeling rather jovial, when an infected woman grabbed onto me and begged me for help.” I inhale, regathering my courage to confess. “I didn’t know how to react to her. I completely shut down. Her desperate face has haunted me since.”

I meet his eyes again. “That was you?” he asks. I look at him, perplexed. “That woman in the marketplace grabbed onto you?” 

I rack my brain, searching for comprehension, when I finally recall the flash of auburn locks. “You were the doctor that responded to the call!”

He nods. We both sit there for a while, contemplative. Vesuvia is smaller than it appears.

“Well, it was that…” I continue. “...and something else.” We lock eyes again. A grin creeps to my lips. “But I haven’t had nearly enough to drink to tell you about that.”

He scoffs, stunned. “Cheeky! Are you baiting me?”

“Is it working?”

He studies me for a moment. “Boy!” he calls out, calling the young man over again. “Get my apprentice another one of those immediately. We can’t be getting thirsty, now.” The boy rushes away and Julian turns back to me. “Absolutely.”


	13. Rowdy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so my mom didn't actually become a Julian "stan" because of this chapter, but to quote her, she "REALLY likes the Doctor", which was far more zealous than anything she said about Asra (I'm so sorry to do that to u bb omg).  
> This is also probably my favorite chapter in this whole story too :') (Whoops). Julian can just be such a sweet baby sometimes and I think it was really highlighted here. Also... what happens between MC and him is just... ;) I hope you love it!

**Rowdy**

I have lost all sense of time, and lost count of all my drinks. All I know is that the world is incredibly hazy, and that the man sitting before me is far too sultry. This isn’t good. I need to get away from him before I do something I’ll regret. 

But I don’t move. Whatever it may be, I feel that if I leave him I’ll regret it more. So I continue to observe as he speaks to other patrons, admiring his whole-hearted chuckling and genuine smiles. I am unable to follow their conversations... they turn into background murmurings as I use all of my energy to take in his lovely features. I find them to be just as striking as that first evening I met him.

How lucky I am to have met him.

He suddenly stands up, turning to me. “Kealla, I absolutely must settle this. You can join me, if you like?” 

I just shake my head, unsure of what he’s asking about, but certain that it involves movement. Which is precisely something I would like to avoid doing right now. He and the group make their way over to the bar and hop on top of it, riling up the other patrons. I see the barman discretely back away from the counter and watch on, unamused. The music changes in the background and something more fast-paced is played. They start doing a merry jig on the counter-top, half of the eyes in the tavern turning to them to observe, the rest making a point to ignore them. Out of the observers, many egg them on, roaring with laughter and spitting remarks. Once the song finishes, they bow to the wild crowd and make their way down. I see Julian shake the hand of the man he danced with before coming back to the table alone. 

“Were you impressed?” He asks me.

“It was… cute.” I respond. “But you could have done better on that crowd size.”

He chuckles. “Ah well, that’s what I get for giving them so many good shows on a regular basis.” He leans over to me. “You say that like you could do better.”

I snort. “I could.”

Julian looks at me in surprise. “You could...? I don’t believe you.”

I rise quickly. That was the wrong thing to do. I teeter dangerously from the sudden movement. He riled me up though, so I plough on. I point my finger in his face. “Get ready to be proved terribly wrong. I’m going to have every pair of eyes on me in this place.”

I hesitantly make my way to the bar. I glance over my shoulder to make sure that Julian is watching me. He’s transfixed, a ghost of a smile comes to his lips in anticipation. The barkeep leans on his bar again, wiping his glasses with a grimy rag while drunkards discuss with him. I walk up to him. He notices me and gives me a perplexed expression. Without saying anything, I grab the rag and yank it out of his hands. Shocked, he doesn’t resist. The group surrounding me stops dead and turns to observe.

I take the rag and bundle it up in my hands. I bring my clasped fingers up to my face and start whispering incantations to it inside of my grip. I slowly open my hands and blow. A small white bird bolts out of my grip where the rag should have been and starts zooming around the room, tittering animatedly. The men around me yell out in surprise, causing many of the unconcerned patrons to look up and see what the commotion is about. I allow the bird to zoom around the room a couple more times to gather attention. When it flies over my head for the last time, I snap my fingers, causing it to go up in a ball of fire. Out of the fire drops a white mass. I catch it easily, and flip it over my shoulder to the barman. “Here, I cleaned it for you.” 

He grabs it and holds it out in surprise. In his hand he holds his rag, now perfectly clean. At the sight of it, the closest observers lose their minds. The ruckus causes the whole bar to turn to them, and then to me. Once the noise dies down slightly, I take the opportunity to make an announcement.

“Gentlemen! And lady.” I indicate the sole woman in the establishment, sitting in a corner with her group. She flips me off as she gets addressed. “For my next trick, I will need a few dispensable coins.”

I am swarmed as coins are eagerly placed into my hands. Once I have enough, I strut over to the free end of the counter. I look at the men lined up against it, their eyes turned to me, and indicate for them to remove their drinks and back away. They do so willingly, scooting their stools backwards.

The counter now clear and the space before it free, I whisper into my hand again, concentrating on what I want to happen next. I make a vertical motion with my palm, causing the coins to roll out over the counter top. When they are evenly spaced over the bar, they all turn and spin furiously, before gradually losing momentum and falling flat. The tavern is as quiet as a full tavern can become, waiting. Those that are not close enough to see while they sit rise to their feet to get a look. I raise my hand and bring it down hard on the surface, the vibrations causing the coins to jump high into the air. I sprint along the front of the bar now, palm outstretched, collecting all of the coins in one sweep. Once I am at the other end and I have finished my collections, I throw them back into the air, arching away from me. I raise my hand high and go into a cartwheel, collecting them in my palm again as my hands move toward the ground. When I am back on my feet, I look back at the quiet room and slowly raise my empty palms above me, waving them to the onlookers. 

Furious whistling and clapping breaks through the room. People start talking animatedly to each other and to me. I can’t make out anything in the noise until a voice yells through. “Now, make them appear again! We want them back!”

“Oh?” I say, bringing a finger up to my chin. “But who said anything about getting them back?” The room starts roaring with laughter. I look over to the wall where our booth was and I see Julian on his feet gaping at me, completely entranced. I climb onto the bar to regather everyone’s attention. They go quiet once more and look up at me. 

“Gentlemen!” I bellow. “Lady.” I bow to her this time. She flips me off again but she and her group start cackling. “For my final trick… I will need a volunteer.”

Hands start furiously waving in the air, accompanied by shouts of the willing. I make a show of considering all of the individuals before me, before turning and pointing at Julian. “You, Doctor,” he continues to gape at me. He hadn’t even volunteered. “I can think of no better assistant.” I turn my finger around and indicate for him to come closer, smizing. “And, while you’re at it, bring me my bag, if you would.” He picks it up and slowly makes his way over, spellbound. He holds the bag up to me. “Thank you, good sir.” I dig through it and pull out my old tarot deck before latching it shut and dropping it next to me on the counter.

“Are any of you familiar with tarot meanings?” I turn to the room and ask as I sift through the deck. Incomprehensible noise bursts through the air again as people speak over each other to respond. I finally locate the card I am looking for and hold it out before me, presenting it to the crowd while slipping the rest of the deck into my pocket.

“The Sun.” I announce. “Glory, health, success…” I pause for dramatic effect. “...Riches.” I can feel the room hold onto every single one of my words. Julian looks up at me, enthralled alongside everyone else. “What do we associate with the sun, the actual burning star in the sky?” I inquire.

“Heat!” Someone yells out. I point in the direction it came from, acknowledging it. “That’s right, heat. Heat can bring us many riches. It can grow our crops, it can melt our metals into coins… with intense heat and pressure, the natural world makes gems. One of the most precious riches we have.” A mysterious smile comes to my lips. “Let us see if we can make a diamond tonight.” 

I turn to one of the patrons sitting on a bar stool. “Good sir, if you could please allow us your seat for a moment, I need it for this next part.” He scrambles up and places it a few paces before me. 

I indicate for Julian to sit upon it facing away from the bar and toward the room. He peers at me over his shoulder, unwilling to miss a single one of my movements. I take the card and begin to fold it, making it smaller and smaller, until I am unable to fold it anymore. I hold it out in front of me again, showing the crowd. I feel them all hold their breath. Finally, I sit down on the bar directly behind Julian. I spread my legs and pat the space on the bar top right between them. “I’ll need you to put your head right here, Doctor.” Laughter bounces off of the walls and a couple of whistles tear through it. Noticing all the eyes on him, his face breaks into a coy grin. He shrugs and lies back, placing his head between my thighs, exactly where I indicated.

I bite the end of the folded card between my teeth and place my hands on either side of his head. “I’ll need you to hold onto this for me,” I say behind my clenched jaw. I lean down, bringing it to his mouth. I feel his breath catch in surprise, but he opens up, biting onto the other end of it. This close, I can feel his quick breathing caress my face. I release it and sit up again, peering down at him inquisitively. “I’ll need you to hold that _in_ your mouth. And make sure you don’t swallow it.” The room cackles again. 

He slowly lets it drop to his tongue and clamps his mouth shut. My hands still hold his head, and I lean down once more, this time placing my lips to his. I blow a few puffs of air into his mouth. When I come up again, his face is bright red. It looks like I can make you blush too. 

He suddenly coughs through a closed mouth. “Oh?” I question. “Could you be coming down with something, Doctor?” Another laugh. I move my fingers down to his jaw, pushing on it gently from either side. “Open up,” I instruct. He does so hesitantly. 

When it’s open, I calmly reach into his mouth and carefully extract my crystal pendulum from it, letting it hang down above him. I sigh. “It doesn’t look like we managed to make a diamond today, but this is almost as beautiful.”

The room breaks into hysteria. Julian and I are hauled from our spots and pulled around the room to receive many pats on the back and, for me, a few on the head. We are separated for a long moment before we are pushed back to the bar side-by-side. His debonair grin is back. I guess he’s forgotten his embarrassment from earlier. “More witchery. How… remarkable,” he says. I beam at him. 

Shots are ordered and pushed onto us. I try to refuse, still heavily inebriated from before, but the patrons are insistent. I end up throwing back a line next to him. Our entourage cheers us on as we do so. Once that is done, more people vie for our attention. They speak animatedly. I try to understand, but the words are slipping from me as I feel my vision get blurrier. I sway dangerously and put a hand to Julian’s arm to steady myself. “I need to leave,” I tell him. 

He manages to kindly fight them off as he escorts me to the door. The cool air feels good on my face and makes me come to my senses a tiny bit. I am still incapable of walking on my own. He steadies me under one of my arms and holds me close to him from around my waist. We take a few steps before I realize something is terribly wrong.

“I’m going to be sick.” I look up at him in a panic. “Drop me and go far, far away.”

“Darling, I am a doctor. People getting sick is my specialty.” He leads me to a green space and helps me lean over, supporting myself on my knees. I start to teeter forward, unbalanced, but he steadies me by holding onto my shoulder before I fall. 

At that, I start to vomit. I feel like the onslaught will never end. But like everything, it does. He presents me with a handkerchief to wipe my face and I do.

“I’ll take you to your home,” he says. 

He wraps his arms around me and steadies me against himself once more. I hold my hand to his chest. “No,” I say, panicked again. “My aunt cannot see me like this.”

He looks at me puzzled. “Then, what would you suggest?”

I stare into his eyes determinedly. “Take me back to the clinic.”

***

The light bleeds through the curtains and I stir awake. My head pounds, and I feel like I haven’t drank water in days. I turn to get myself up to search for some, when I realize I am not in my bed. The details of the night come flooding back to me and I sit up in embarrassment. I got so drunk I puked my guts out in front of my mentor… right after forcing myself onto him for the sake of a magic trick. Or some sort of weird power play. I hold my hand up to my mouth, thinking I’m going to be sick again, when his head pops up over the edge of the bed.

“Morning,” he yawns. 

“You slept there?” I ask, seeing him on the floor. 

He scratches his head, his eyes squinting in the sunlight. “Well, you are my guest. I wasn’t going to allow you to sleep on the floor.” 

I’m embarrassed again. I forced him to bring me here last night and then kicked him out of his own bed. “You shouldn’t have done that,” I insist.

“Oh?” His eyes go wide as they lock mine, his face breaking into his signature roguish grin. “Would you have preferred I slept with you in the bed?” 

He’s back to making me flustered again. I stand up quickly. The movement makes me dizzy. I hold my hand to my head and close my eyes. “Sorry doctor, I’m going to have to leave,” I announce. 

He chuckles, standing up in front of me. I can hear a reproachful huff resonate up from the floor as he gets up. Brundle must have been sleeping on him and was rudely disturbed.

“I’m sorry, that was mean. I won’t tease you like that again, it was just too easy.” He places both of his hands on my shoulders and pushes me back into a sitting position. “Besides, you can’t go anywhere without us getting some liquid into you.”

He searches for a glass of water in the kitchen. Once I manage to drink half of it, we exit the room together. I am seated at the table, my face pressed to the cool surface before me. I feel my head pulse against it. Julian bustles around the kitchenette.

“Do you want tea or coffee?” he asks.

“Do you even have to ask anymore?”

I only drink coffee with him now. He has so much readily available that it’s the easiest to access. It definitely does a better job at keeping me awake on these long days. 

He smiles to himself and brings the coffee pot over, placing the sugar and creamer beside me. Still doesn’t mean I can drink it black like him.

He pours me a cup, leaving plenty of space at the top for my additions. I start dropping spoon after spoon of sugar into the coffee before pouring the cream, bringing the light brown liquid all the way to the brim. I catch him staring at me as I do so. 

“I didn’t mean to interrupt. Please, continue.” His eyes twinkle.

I hesitantly sip, ascertaining that I don’t throw it all back up after every mouthful. Julian drinks in front of me serenely. How can he look like _this_ after a night like _that._

“It’s unfair how well you are handling things this morning,” I pout.

He looks up at me in surprise, his eyes shining again. “Tolerance, my dear. I’ve had lots of practice.” We continue drinking in silence. “Say… do you remember anything from last night?” 

“No,” I lie. I beg my cheeks not to give me away. “Did we have fun?” 

“Too much of it. You also showed off some of your magic tricks to an adoring crowd. It was… very impressive.” He stops, searching me. “Is that ringing any bells?”

“None.” I have to keep my responses short, afraid that my voice will crumble under the lie. “But it seems to be a running theme for me to play with magic when I’m inebriated.” 

“It really was spectacular. Though I’m not one to fawn over those flashy magic shows, it did seem like you really knew what you were doing…” he trails off, eyeing me. I can tell he is prodding for more.

I tut, wagging a finger at him. “That’s a backstory you haven’t unlocked just yet. You’re going to have to wait.”

“So there is a chance I will unlock it some day.” 

“If you play your cards right.” 

Full of coffee and water, I feel slightly better. I rise to my feet and make my way out of the clinic. Julian wanted to walk me home but I insisted that it’s bright and there is no point. He needs to take a break once in a while.

As I walk toward my aunt’s, I start to feel dread. Whatever drunk me thought I was accomplishing by not going home was not well-contemplated. Instead of having to respond to her interrogating regards toward my inebriation, I will now have to explain where I slept last night. That’s by far worse.

I walk into the Goldgrave shop. My aunt snaps her head up from the book she’s reading and looks at me questioningly. I scurry away, avoiding her eyes as I silently make my way up the stairs. I hear her laughter resonate behind me. 

I slide into bed and grab a pillow to hug it tightly. Alone with my thoughts, I feel my heart race. I can’t shake the image of Julian’s blushing face from my mind. Nor the feeling of his lips pressed to mine. 

They were surprisingly soft. Inviting. 

I’m afraid I’ll never get back to sleep if I allow my thoughts to run wild. I roll over and start listing the parts of the human body to drone them out. This never fails to make me snooze.


	14. Practice

**Practice**

Julian has me consult patients at the clinic now. Though he shadows me on all of them, of course. I am reassured by his presence. He only intervenes when I am completely off the mark, and that isn’t frequent. Since I’ve developed my intuition from a very young age, I think I am able to use it alongside the science that I’ve learned. Thus, it usually doesn’t take me very long to assess a situation and make a diagnosis. 

“You’re incredible,” he states one day after my patient exits the clinic. “I’ve never seen an apprentice learn so quickly. If you keep learning at this rate, it won’t take you long to surpass me.” I laugh at his flattery and lean down to pat Brundle on her protruding stomach. I feel like she has gotten more used to me now. Or at least tolerates me, just as she fondly tolerates Julian. She lazily wags her tail in response to the pets. 

He has me sit on the opposite side of his desk to write my reports for the morning. I scribble furiously on the parchment before me, but can’t help but be distracted by him. He’s reading while massaging his shoulder and swinging his head around. I try to focus back on my work before me, but he is relentless. He must have a knot. 

“You know,” I begin. “I could use some of that ‘ _witchery’_ of mine to get that out.” 

He stops and peers at me, his hand frozen on his shoulder. “It’s fine, I don’t want to bother you while you’re working,” he responds. 

“You’re already bothering me right now. Just let me do it.”

He looks at me bashfully before grinning. “Alright then, take care of me.”

I laugh as I get up. “Well, then. It’s time for you to play patient, _Doctor,_ ” I tease. “I’ll need you to undress.” 

“Oooh, how enticing.” He’s almost too keen to undo his shirt. “But how very unfair, since I never saw you do the same for me.”

He’s referencing that Masquerade again. I walked myself straight into this, joking with him so provocatively. I don’t know what I thought this would turn into if I stepped onto that path. But I can’t back down now. 

I pull us back into our warped scenario. “Why would a doctor _,_ like me, undress for my patient? That would mean something else entirely.”

I feel him look at me out of the corner of his eye. “Would that be such a bad thing?” 

Our relationship has changed since that night at the Rowdy Raven. His teasing has become more relentless. I think he gathers that I remember more than I let on. My ears burn and my eyes fix the floor determinedly. He has to feel the impressive heat coming off of my face. I hear him chuckle as he pulls his shirt over his head and stops moving. I glance up again and see that his torso is completely exposed. 

I move around to his back and tentatively place a hand to it. He jumps in surprise.

“Sorry, my hands tend to be cold.”

“I like it. It keeps you on your toes.” I feel him peer over his shoulder at me. I refuse to meet his stare. He is on a roll today.

I move my hand over to the shoulder that he was massaging. I take a few deep breaths and concentrate, attempting to feel the pain in order to work through it. I feel it, alright. It’s like he has a rock here, stuck by energy and stress. It’s terribly heavy and condensed. He’s carrying too much on his shoulders. 

I begin to softly work away at it, loosening it from the inside with my energy while massaging it from the outside with my hands. He watches me intently. “This is the strangest sensation,” he admits. “It felt somewhat similar when you healed the cut, but this seems more… potent somehow.”

“This is more internal, versus external, so I have to handle it differently.” I close my eyes in concentration. “It’s a more intricate process.” As I continue to work on him, I jump into another subject. “I’ve been wondering… On the night that we met, you weren’t wearing plague attire.”

“What an astute observation.”

I ignore his interruption. “What I’ve wanted to know then is… what were you testing for?” 

He chuckles. “Impressive. But I’m afraid it’s top secret. Only medical officials are allowed to know that information.”

I open my eyes. “I’m good at keeping secrets…” I press.

He chuckles. “Are you so sure about that?” I shrug before batting my eyes at him. “I guess you _could_ be considered a part of the medical community now… so I might as well let you in the loop.” 

We both let out a deep exhale at the same time. We catch each other doing so and laugh. Energy work can be a funny thing. Whoever you allow into your space can be affected by you and can affect you in return. 

“Basically, we did want to make sure that no plague victims would try to get in... but that was what the first wave of doctors in the full attire were for. For everyone in the tents, we were compiling data on all the citizens of Vesuvia, hoping that we could use it if and/or when the patients got sick with the plague, to see if there were indicative patterns.”

“Wow,” I say. “That’s… deceptive.” 

He gives a dark laugh. “I knew you would be off-put by it. But desperate times…”

I guess that’s true. Having more information on it could never be a bad thing. It could eventually lead to prevention of, or treatments for, the Red Plague. 

I reach the core of the knot in his shoulder. I can feel how hard and compressed it is. I close my eyes again. “This will probably hurt a little bit.” I exhale forcefully and firmly push my fingers down into him. I hear him wince as I do so. I visualise my magic unraveling it from the inside, while loosening it with my fingers from the outside. Finally, I feel a pop of power as it releases. The energy flows freely in his body now ; no more blockages.

I leave my hands on his shoulder for a moment, breathing deeply to recenter myself. When I open my eyes, I see him smile at me, appearing incredibly refreshed. He almost looks like he’s finally had a good night’s sleep. That’s a rather unexpected side effect, but I am glad to know that I was able to revitalize him. I smile back and begin to remove my hands when he grabs onto one and pulls me around to his side, swiveling his chair to face me. He holds my hand in both of his and brings it up to his chest, placing it right over his heart.

“Thank you, Kealla.” 

I am struck by his sincerity, and the vulnerability I feel from it makes me avert my gaze. “It’s not a problem.” I tentatively raise my eyes to meet his again. “It’s the least I can do for all the help you’ve given me.”

“Me, help you? What a ridiculous notion. It pales in comparison to everything you’ve done for me.”

He slowly releases my hand and I drop it to my side. I miss his touch already. That was… surprisingly intimate. Without wanting to admit it to myself, I sense I crave more. 

He stands and stretches. “I feel like a new man.” He places his shirt back on and does it up again. I move back to my spot on the other side of the desk to finish my reports. Finally dressed, he turns to me. “I hope you aren’t feeling too drained from that. There is much I want you to do today.” I look at him inquisitively. “I have decided to take you with me on my rounds to visit plague patients.” 

I almost can’t believe my ears and gape at him for a moment. “Really?” I didn’t expect that today. “I don’t have a uniform, though.”

“Ah, not to worry, I requested one from the palace in your size.” He walks over to the wardrobe and pulls out a suit and boots. They definitely aren’t his, considering their smaller size. He brings them over to me and I inspect them. They should fit perfectly. How could he tell?

I look up from the gear to him. This is the whole reason I joined Julian at this clinic in the first place, so I knew this day was coming. Knowing that the moment is finally here… I am not quite sure how to react. All I know is that I feel apprehensive. 

I sigh, closing my eyes. When I open them again, I nod toward him, resolute. “I’m ready.”

***

He helps me dress in the full attire and carefully places the mask on my face. The floral scent from the beak overwhelms my senses momentarily. He scrutinizes me. “You look like a proper plague doctor.” 

I laugh. “I am a plague doctor in appearance only. I still have much to learn.”

“All in good time.”

We step out of the clinic and I follow him through the streets. He gives me a run-down of what to expect from the consultations from beginning to end. We stop in front of a small house and Julian knocks. A man with weary eyes answers before leading us inside.

We are led to a room in the back, where a figure lays in the dark. Their raucous cough breaks through the silence and makes my skin crawl. I hate that sound… so hollow, and haunting. 

The man stands just outside of the room. “She can barely get up to take the food and drink that I leave for her anymore.” His sorrow is overwhelming. I can’t imagine the grief he is going through. 

“I am sorry my dear, but I am going to have to put on some light to see you in here.” Julian states it to the figure, lighting a lantern and handing it over to me. He indicates that I follow him to the bed. He sits on the edge and gently coaxes her to turn around and face him. She does, and shakily manages to pull herself into a sitting position. At the sight of her face, I feel my heart drop into my stomach. She’s young. Easily early teens. And she reminds me of someone. 

It can’t be. The resemblance is uncanny.

I feel like I am suffocating. I need to get out of this sick room, and out from under this stifling gear. I place the lantern on the side table and walk out, passing the man by the doorway.

I exit the house and round the corner, ripping off my mask and crouching to catch my breath. After a moment, I hear the door from the house open and close. Heeled boots click over to me. I peer up into Julian’s mask. 

“That’s her kid, isn’t it? The market woman.”

He slowly removes the beak so I can see his whole face. “I wondered if you would realize it.” 

Those questions I had on that day have been answered, then. She surely didn’t die alone, but it appears that it won’t be long for her next of kin to follow her. 

“Why did you bring me here?” My words echo in my ears.

He studies me for a long, trying moment. “I needed to test your resolve.” I close my eyes and continue breathing deeply, feeling like I am unable to get enough air into my lungs. “I needed to see if you could handle the devastation that this job will make you confront on a daily basis.”

We sit in silence for a moment as I gather myself. I stand up suddenly. “I can handle it.” 

I came this far, I am not losing my nerve now. I determinedly fix my mask back on. He nods and places his before we step back inside. 

The rest of the examination goes on without a hitch. At the end of it, Julian gives her a tincture to soothe her coughing before standing up. He clears his throat. “I would recommend leaving for the Lazaret.” 

I feel a stab to the heart. I don’t know how he managed to make that grave “recommendation”. We all know what it means.

The man starts bawling. Under his breath he whispers _no_ repeatedly. The girl peers at Julian with her scarlet eyes before shakily pulling herself to her feet. “It’s okay, Dad. It’s time.”

We move out of the house as the man begs her to stay. When we are outside, he goes to hold her. As a reflex, I throw my arm out to prevent him from approaching. He stops himself, regathering his senses. She turns back to him. “I can’t stay and get you sick, too,” she rasps. Tears pool in the bottoms of her eyes. They both stand immobile, taking in each other for the last time. Finally, she turns and walks away. We follow her. 

I take one final glance at the man left behind. He has sunken to the floor and is heaving, wrought with grief. I divert my gaze and continue after the others. Julian speaks to her in low, soothing tones as we make our way to the docks. He fills her in on what to expect when she arrives. She doesn’t respond to him. 

The sea is finally visible ahead, as well as the ferry, waiting to take its new victims to the somber island beyond. We stop at the edge of the pier while she steps onto the wooden planks and joins the line of the sick before her. Our eyes follow her as she moves away. She doesn’t look back.

“What would have happened had she not decided to come with us?” Unable to contain it, the question falls from me as my eyes fix the back of her head. 

“I could have reported it, which would have provoked a military escort.” I clench my teeth at that violent imagery. “But I have yet to see a doctor follow through with that.” He turns to me now, slowly meeting my gaze through his mask. “We prefer to allow our patients to go as they please." He sighs sadly. "As reckless as it may seem, none of us have the heart to follow that part of the protocol.”

I nod solemnly before we move away. We have other patients waiting for us.

I observe two more appointments before I take over. Most are in the very early stages of the infection. My last patient isn’t far from the end, though. This time, I am the one to make the damning “suggestion”. They live alone. No one is there to give them a tearful goodbye. 

Once we see them off, we turn away and walk back to the clinic in silence. It’s late again. We had a long and taxing day.

Inside, we remove all of our gear and Julian goes over the steps to properly sanitize it. Once that is done and everything is left out to dry, I lay down on the floor beside Brundle, absentmindedly petting her. He leaves me there as he fills out paperwork in his office. 

When he steps out and still finds me lying on the floor, he speaks. “Come, I have some medicine for that heartache.” 

He leads me into the dining area and places two glasses on the table. He locates a bottle of whiskey in the cabinet and generously pours into both before placing it to the side. 

I hate whiskey. I grab the glass and throw the whole thing back, swallowing it in one go. It seems to momentarily heat the ice I feel devour my entire body. 

He looks at me pensively. “This is best consumed slowly.”

I plop down the empty glass as I settle into the chair across from him. “I want to feel the effects right away.” 

We don’t speak for a while. He continues to observe me over his glass. I avoid his gaze and soberly watch my hand as I trace swirls into the tabletop, supporting my head with my elbow and my free hand. 

“You did a fantastic job today” he finally says, breaking the silence. I shrug. He reflects for a moment before continuing. “But what I would like to know is... are you sure about pursuing this? Nothing is forcing you to.”

I look up at him. “Would you be able to stop?” I ask.

He looks back, subdued. “No.”

“There’s your answer, then.”

We are both more similar than it may appear. We’re too far into the game to forfeit now. Win or lose, we have to see it through to the end. He starts to rub his shoulder again and lets out a deep, somber sigh. He grabs the whiskey bottle from next to us and pours more into my glass before topping himself off. 

The minutes inch by, both of us in our own worlds while we sit together in this one. I feel my vision blur and my mind become sluggish as the alcohol seeps into all corners of my body. 

He stands, “I’m taking you home.” 

“No,” I say resolutely. “I can’t be alone with this day.” 

I look him firmly in the eyes. When he doesn’t protest what I stated or its implication, I slowly teeter to my feet and move into the room, dropping onto the bed. He follows me and pulls out extra blankets from the wardrobe. 

“Don’t sleep on the floor.” I say it softly.

He locks eyes with me again, unsure of how he should interpret my request. I roll myself into the corner to allow enough space for his long form. Slowly, he puts the blankets back. He timidly slips into the bed while not breaking eye contact, constantly verifying that this is what I am suggesting. When I don’t object, I see him ease a little. As he sinks into his pillow, an auburn lock falls in front of one of his eyes, covering it from view. Unwilling to stop myself in this state, I reach out and gently brush his hair back, seeing both of his soft grey irises once more. 

“Good,” I state, pulling my hand away. I turn from him before the whisky fully takes hold of me, plunging me into a heavy and dreamless sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more update, and that'll be all for this book, folks :') feels bittersweet.


	15. Distance

**Distance**

The days all meld into one as we continue on our house calls. Julian shadows every one of my appointments, but rarely does he intervene. I almost forget he is there sometimes, completely preoccupied with the patient before me. 

For lack of a better word, I’ve learned to cope. Though I do so through being completely numb. It might not be the best way to deal with the trauma that I am assaulted with on a daily basis, but it’s all I can do to protect my own sanity. 

I’m afraid it has bled into other parts of my life. I definitely do not laugh or smile as frequently as I used to. As infrequently as I see my aunt now, I know that she can tell something is different. Julian has definitely noticed a change in my demeanor : he still does joke with me, but when my responses are less playful, he quickly drops his provocations.

Fight it as I may, I find that I am thinking of Asra more when I am curled up in my bed. It’s like my soul is begging for me to feel something again, and this is the way I can allow myself to succumb to the pervading sadness around me. 

I want to forget him, but I cannot. I can push him out of my mind in the bustle of the day, but he creeps back up on me in my final, silent moments of the night. I want to be free of the memories of the taste of his lips, the tingling that ran rampant in my entire body under his touch… how wonderful I felt surrounded by him and his impressive aura. Whenever I awaken in the morning, I cannot help but feel engulfed by a lingering sense of longing and loss. 

Julian had a meeting at the palace this evening, so I am manning the clinic on my own again. Not that we have many patients come in anymore. Most of our consultations are now restricted to house visits. I go over the paperwork on the patients I have seen over the past week, verifying that everything is in order. Once that is done, I begin to draft my weekly report for him, comfortably settled behind his desk. Since he’s not here, he can’t mind me using his chair. It’s the best one in here. 

I hear the bell of the door chime as it opens, followed by the lazy thumping of Brundle’s tail on the floor. Julian has arrived, then. I stand up just as he walks into the office, Malak zooming in from behind him. He spots me at his desk and grins. 

“Stay. You look like a natural behind there.”

I smile timidly before gathering my things and moving out from it. “How did it go at the palace?” I ask.

He seems to be off-put by my question for a second before breaking back into a grin. “It was… fruitful.” He pulls out an envelope from under his arm and hands it to me. I take it and turn it around. The royal seal is stamped into the wax. I look up at him in surprise and he nods encouragingly.

I gently undo the seal and pull out the parchment from inside. Opening it, I see it’s a certificate with my name on it. 

“You’re officially recognized as a plague aid, assigned to work under the centralized efforts of the palace.” His eyes twinkle. Is he… proud?

I examine the certificate for a while. It feels bittersweet. Which I don’t understand. I am definitely thrilled at this sense of accomplishment... but why do I have the feeling that this means things as they are will come to an end?

“What does this all mean?” I ask him hesitantly.

“You’ll still report to me, along with a few other aids working with patients in the city. But I no longer need to be over your shoulder at the consultations.” He beams at me. “You’ll be completely independent.” 

Completely independent… “How will that change how we work together?”

“Well,” he begins cheerfully, before stopping and sighing, his enthusiasm suddenly quelled. “Things are going to change quite a bit, actually.” 

Ah. That’s where my sense of foreboding was coming from. 

“All of my time will be dedicated to a new assignment in the palace.” He sighs again before meeting my eyes. “I will no longer take consultations in the clinic, and my house visits will be relegated to the aids working under me.”

I feel a deep, sinking feeling overcome me as the words hit my ears. Once I finally process them, I have to know. “How will I still report to you?”

“Well… letter correspondences.” 

Ah. Of course.

I let out a puff of air, trying to lift the heaviness that I suddenly feel on my heart. Julian has become such a constant and steady presence in my life… I am not sure how I’ll feel without him by me. How will I handle being left alone again?

I feel my mind wander back to Asra and forcibly put a stop to it.  _ No.  _ This is different. Julian’s still here and I can get in contact with him whenever needed. 

“When does this whole change come into effect?” I ask him.

“As of tomorrow.”

We both lock eyes again. I can see regret mirrored back to me. We had gotten used to our dynamic. The familiarity and warmth of it... the security in our interactions. 

I’ll miss it, and I have a feeling he will too. 

“That means, starting tomorrow, our patients are solely my own? I will be doing all my rounds without you?”

“Precisely.”

“And I won’t be coming back here after them.”

“No.” 

I had to have it reiterated to me, somewhere hopeful that I misunderstood. Or that it would change.

“Come,” he says suddenly. “It’s our last night before you are off on your own. Let’s go for a stroll to blow off some steam.” 

I start to pack my bag with the things that I’ll need for my treatments. I dress myself in my overcoat and my boots to allow some space for other things, like that bulky mask. I should have known Julian wouldn’t make it easier on me, though. He starts frantically pulling books off of the shelf, shoving them into my hands and insisting that I keep them in my house for reference. 

“Julian!” I exclaim after his fussing has gone on for too long. “I really appreciate this, but I can’t take all of these, let alone carry them.” The stack teeters and my arms tremble. I’m afraid I’ll drop them at any moment.

“Ah, you’re right. I’ll pick out the most important ones.” I place them on the counter and he goes through them once more to carefully select five. “Here,” he says, handing them to me. When I grab onto them, he gently places his hands over both of mine. I meet his gaze, fully unflustered by his touch for the first time.

_ Thank you. _

It comes from both of our hearts.

“Shall we head out, then?” he asks. 

I nod. “Just one more thing.” I walk over to the lethargic mass lying on her side on the floor. I pat her bulging stomach and move up to her face to give it one last caress. Her eyes gaze at me fondly now. “Good bye, sweet girl,” I say. “Thank you for showing a newbie like me all the ropes.” Her tail thumps in response.

I get up and follow Julian out of the clinic, turning back to give it a quick one-over. We had a good run. I hope to be back soon. Malak flies out behind us.

The air is cool and the setting sun touches every surface with a charming glow. I look at Julian's face out of the corner of my eye to see how his features appear under the light. Just as striking as I had imagined. 

We wander without a true sense of direction or time, and end up at the marketplace. The stands are all closing down for the day. It’s a peaceful sight in the sunset. 

We pass Selasi beating his rugs outside of the bakery. “Kealla?” he asks, spotting me. “I was wondering where you and Asra had gone! It’s been so long-” he cuts short, spotting Julian next to me. 

I give him a strained smile, this place and that name evoking too many memories for me. I can’t just leave him in the dark. “I’m sorry,” I say. “I guess Asra didn’t come to say goodbye but… he left a while ago.”

He nods at me sympathetically. I can sense he feels the pain in my words and my rigid stance. “Here, kid. I have some bread I didn’t sell today. Let me get it for you.” He steps back into the shop and we wait. Julian doesn’t comment or pry. The baker steps back out with two loaves in hand. “One for you, and one for your new friend.” We both thank him and walk away. 

When we are far enough, I hand my loaf to Julian. “Take it,” I say. “I don’t have much of an appetite for this anymore.” 

We continue meandering through the streets, savoring each other's presences, unhurried for the night to end. It becomes darker and the world becomes still. We stumble upon a garden hidden between buildings. 

“Shall we?” Julian asks, turning to me. I nod and follow him. 

It’s beautiful. The insects have come alive at this hour and titter in the cool air. The light of the moon and the iridescent flowers in the trees illuminate the enchanting forms of all the plants and the marble statues surrounding us. I lean down to smell a lily. The sweet odor caresses my nostrils. I smile serenely. 

“Would you like it?” he asks.

I shake my head. “If I were to cut it and take it away, it would miss its home and would shrivel up and die.” I take one long sniff again, trying to imprint the smell to memory. “I would rather it thrive for others than keep it all to myself.”

We continue walking and find a bench where we sit, giving ourselves a moment to gaze at the stars. I breathe languidly, finding peace in my heart as I am surrounded by the luxuriant life here. It’s like the breeze is cleansing the sorrow from my soul while the crickets’ chirpings drone the darkness from my mind.

“Kealla,” Julian begins suddenly. I open my eyes to search for his. He doesn’t meet mine. His demeanor is… different. Nervous. “Before we part ways tonight, I have to tell you how… just, what a gift it has been to spend so much time working with you.” He stumbles over his words. I see him try to regather his breath. “The more time I spent with you, the more I realized how much I missed you when you were gone and I…” he trails off, nervously running his fingers through his hair. “I just want you to know, I care for you deeply. More than a doctor cares for his apprentice.” He finally meets my eyes and I see a hopeful anxiousness in them. “And I am hoping to have the opportunity to show you just how much that means. If you are willing, of course.” 

I am completely shaken. This was unexpected. As the weight of the full confession hits me, I feel my heart beat frantically. This man… is too kind. I adore him. I want more than anything to be able to return that vulnerability to him ten-fold. To crawl into his lap and bring my lips to his again, this time, expressing my full and unrestrained desire through them.

But I cannot. Because my heart is still shackled to the one I loved before. And that would not be fair to either of us. 

“Julian, I-” I falter. 

His hopeful expression falls. “Right, silly me.” He lets out a self-deprecating laugh. “I apologize for pushing all of this on you. I think my new role at the palace has made me overly rash and sentimental. Besides,” he looks back at me sadly. “What would someone so young, so effervescent, want with an old and washed-up doctor like me?” 

No. He can’t take it like that. I grab onto his lapels in a panic. “Julian, please don’t… it’s not that.” My voice cuts. Under his glum gaze I quickly feel the tears bubble up and pour from my eyelids. “It’s not that at all,” I whimper. 

This is the first time I have cried in… I can’t remember. Not that I’ve been far from sadness and pain. I just kept it on a short leash, prohibiting it from running away from me. But his vulnerability has broken through my defenses. I can’t stop the tears from falling now.

He observes me cry for a moment, stunned. Tenderly, he brings two hands up to hold my face. “Oh my Dear, is it heartbreak?” he questions softly. He knows. A steadier stream rushes from my eyes in response. “If it is still affecting you after all this time, could it be your first?” 

He’s too smart. He always has been. He gathered the snippets I left lying around, and understood my deepest secret without me having to disclose anything. I nod meekly and sniffle. 

“Darling, come here,” he instructs. He gently pulls me onto his lap and into his embrace. I feel like a child, unable to control themself and their emotions. But I let him baby me. I feel so good to be completely engulfed by his long limbs. Locked into his strong and warm arms, I am safe from ridicule. I can exist in this space and express the sorrows I repressed in my heart, and he will defend me from the outside world. I dig my face into his neck and let the tears fall. I tremble against him, a few escaped sobs jumping out from me. The floodgates are open and I no longer have control. I will have to wait for the water flow to stop on its own. 

After hiding into him for what feels like an eternity, the tears fade and I pull away from his neck to look at him through puffy eyes. I let out a small, bashful chuckle. Hearing that come from me, he lights up immediately.

“Julian,” I grab one of his hands with both of mine, placing it to my heart, exactly as he had done for me that day in the clinic. “Thank you.” 

“For you? Anything.” 

He lifts me and places me back to his side on the bench. As we take a moment to ourselves, I wipe my face. 

“Well, it’s back to business, then,” he states.

“Will I have to call you Doctor Devorak again?”

He scoffs. “I thought I made it clear that I would not hear of such a title between us. I am still  _ Julian _ to you.”

“Alright…” I give him a wry smile. “...Doctor  _ Julian  _ Devorak.”

“Cheeky!” He exclaims. I see a laugh in his eyes that reflects my own. Unexpectedly, I feel lighter than I have in days. The tears washed away much of my gloom, and the laughter put me at ease. “Come, let’s get you home.” 

I don’t want to go. I don’t want this to be over. But we both know that it must come to an end. For now. 

I follow him as we move through the shadows of the city. The back of our hands momentarily brush as I move to his side. Timidly, I reach out and intertwine my fingers in his. His expression doesn’t change, but his hand welcomes mine in response.

When we round the corner and stop in front of the Goldgrave shop, I feel a deep sense of regret. It only grows as Julian slowly drops my hand. Malak zooms over and settles on his shoulder.

“Well, this is it,” he says, gazing deep into my eyes.

I nod, attempting a small smile. “Until next time.”

I feel him hesitate before he softly places a hand to the top of my head and leans down. His lips tenderly press to my forehead. They linger for a few, fleeting seconds, before he pulls away. He straightens to his full height and gives me his signature grin. “You’ll do great things.”

My eyes follow him until he is completely gone. I exhale in the cool night air as I bring my fingers up to the spot where he kissed me. How long it has been since I felt affection like that. I feel my heavy heart flutter because of it. 

Alone again, but not lonely. I think of the wonderful people I have met, and the love I have felt, however brief it may have been or seem. At the very least, I can carry these memories with me wherever I go.

When all this is said and done, and if everything goes to the way it once was... I sincerely hope that we will reunite. I only wish that we will meet in the vulnerability of the full truth of our needs and our desires, uninhibited by external griefs and obstacles.

I adjust my bag on my shoulder as I make my way into the shop. Tomorrow will be another day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaanddd... that's a wrap :') If this is the first story of mine you have read, welcome! Please feel free to read the much muuucchh shorter part two. Though beware : it is sad. 
> 
> This whole thing was a wonderful experience for me. It's the first time I brought one of my longer projects to term, and even published it! I know now that since I've done it before, I can do it again. Because of that, it has given me new confidence as a writer to tackle longer stories <3
> 
> Breathing new life into characters that I hold so dear has also been a real treat. And knowing that there are a few out there that have read my idea of them (and may have even liked it!!!), truly has warmed my heart. 
> 
> For those of you that have come this far, thank you for joining me for the ride. It has been wonderful having you along for the journey <3 I hope to see you again.


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